abyss of memory
by DiscordianSamba
Summary: After being rescued from a Galra prison ship by the Blade of Marmora, young amnesiac Kethe decides to throw his lot in with the order. He doesn't ever expect to find answers as to who he is, or where he came from- but as it turns out, they find him, in the form of the paladins of Voltron.
1. marmora side

And now for something that I've been tinkering with off and on for the past week or so! This is meant to be a two shot, so there will be another entry (the paladin side!) after this one, though I don't have any real plans to extend it beyond that. This is actually something of an offshoot of another idea that I'm tinkering with that will take the form of a multi-chapter story, but that one's very much still a work in progress as I decide just how I want to do it. It'll be a doozy whenever I do get around to it, though!

See you next time!

* * *

 **abyss of memory**

 **marmora side  
**

* * *

He woke knowing nothing.

He knew nothing, and yet, faintly, he's aware that something is wrong.

Of course something is wrong. It's a ridiculous thing to say. The absence of _knowing_ is wrong. The yearning abyss where his memories should be is wrong. He reaches back as far as he can, but no matter how deep he goes, there is still nothing.

But it's more than that, this feeling of wrongness.

His face, he feels, is wrong. He just doesn't understand why.

He doesn't remember.

He _can't_ remember.

He vaguely knows where he is. He's a captive, of some sort. He's on a ship, but he doesn't know _where_ \- didn't think he'd know where even if he knew everything he should know.

He doesn't know where he is, only that he shouldn't be here.

He knows that if he doesn't get out of here, something far worse than _not knowing_ will happen. He doesn't know what that might be- maybe his memories are gone, but his instinct is still there, made sharper in the absence of knowing.

They tell him that he cannot afford to stay, that if he stays, he will lose something far more important than some simple memories.

Himself, he thinks. He'll lose himself. For whatever much that counts as, when he has no idea who that is.

(Only the dim feeling that his face is wrong. His eyes are wrong. His skin is wrong. He just doesn't remember what is _right_.)

He has to get out of here. He knows that, knows it in his bones. There is a _witch_ here, that he knows, and the witch wants something from him, something which he cannot and _will not_ give her. He must try and get away somehow, though he gets the feeling he's already tried this.

He licks his lips and knows his teeth are wrong too. But he can use them, _will_ use them- he has no weapons but he is not defenseless.

There is chaos on the ship now, and he senses that this is his time to get away. He doesn't know what the source of it is, but he's not going to waste what may be his only chance. They want to move him somewhere else, off the ship, away from whatever is causing the trouble.

The witch is not here right now, but she will come in time. He will not let her, will not be here when she comes, will not be taken to her.

His hands are bound, but his legs are free. Then too, are his hands, and he ignores the pain from the blade that severed the cuffs, that skirted too close to his back. He has no idea where he will go, only that he _must_ go, all of instincts screaming at him that a suffering more vast than not knowing who he is awaits him if he does not.

The source of the chaos finds him. It was looking for him.

He tenses, watching them with caution, fur (it's wrong, that's _wrong_ ) raised. They are not like the others on the ship, the sentries and the soldiers. A mask and a blade, and then just a blade, because he shows his face and he recognizes that he is one of _them_ , but he is not an enemy.

(He is one of them too.)

(He doesn't know who _them_ is.)

He thinks that he cannot understand him at first- thinks him primal, _feral_. He dimly realizes he is on all fours, tail (wrong, _wrong_ ) lashing wildly behind him, giving into the only thing that he has left to get him out of here- his instincts.

If he goes with this one, he can get out of here, he senses- and the man says as much, tells him his name is Ulaz. Ulaz, who recognizes his attire as belonging to that of a prisoner, who tells him they must escape from this place, who asks if he has a name, still uncertain if the one he's asking knows how to speak.

He has no name to give him. Maybe once, but no longer.

Ulaz understands that he understands, and looks relieved. He intended to take him from here one way or another, but this makes things easier. They escape the ship together, and he can feel the witch's clutches slip away from him, only breathing with ease when he senses that they are gone.

Then he is faced with exhaustion, so powerful, it overtakes him in a fell swoop. He is safe, he knows this, so he allows himself to succumb to it.

He has no name, but at least he is _free_.

* * *

The child was so light- far too light- in his arms.

Even for it's small size, it was simply too light. It was clear that it hadn't been eating well, no more than the bare minimum to keep it alive, if that. Underneath it's thin layer of lavender fur, soft as an infant's fuzz, were marks that indicated chafing, where restraints had been placed and kept there, for a long time.

He wasn't sure what to expect when he'd raided the prisoner transport. It had been against Kolivan's orders- the mission was too risky for a single Blade, and there was simply no time to mount a full scale one. There wasn't enough information, not about the ship, nor who it was carrying.

All they knew was that it carried a single prisoner, and that every message sent from the ship was encoded, using an encryption system the likes the Blade of Marmora had never seen.

But his instincts had told him to go- and so he went.

He didn't know what he'd expected to find there, but most certainly, he did _not_ expect it to be a half-feral Galra child. One who had already been in the process of escaping by the time he reached him, one whose voice rasped with disuse as he told him he didn't know his own name.

The child was sleeping now- and had been for some time. At first, Ulaz thought that he would stir for sure when he picked him up, but it made no move to wake up. It would seem that it had decided to put his trust in him, and with that, had given itself to one of the body's most primal needs- sleep.

Who knew when the last chance was for the child to sleep well? At the very least, it must have been there for several weeks, if not longer still. It was wisest to leave him to it, and wait to question him later.

Provided that the child could give them any answers.

He suspected not.

Careful to lay down the child with care, Ulaz made certain that it was secure in it's resting place. Compared to how he had first found it, hissing, fur raised, this was much better. Since it had spoken, it clearly had some measure of sentience- enough to understand him, at the very least.

It was not without documentation that Galra who were forced to endure harsh conditions for long periods of time would lapse back into a more primal state of being. And being held in a Galra prison ship for an extended period of time would more than qualify.

It was somewhat strange looking, the fur on it's head such a starkly different color from the rest of him. Black, bedraggled, as if it had gone without care for too long.

He would have to make a full report to Kolivan, and soon, he knew. But perhaps, he thought, it would be wisest to remain where he was until the child woke up. It had chosen to put it's faith in him, and he should reward that, by making sure it knew it was safe from the moment it woke up.

Inside of the communications base, hidden away in the space time fold, there was no safer place for it to be.

* * *

The child woke with a shock, and Ulaz was quick to quiet it.

"It is alright, young one." Keeping his tone soothing, Ulaz was careful not to intrude too much on the child's personal boundaries. "You are safe."

Slowly but surely, the child grew less fretful. It took a whiff of the air, held tension washing out of it's shoulders, as it seemed to confirm that he was no longer where he had been so desperately trying to escape from. Yellow eyes fell upon him in due time, and it seemed to take the child a moment to place him.

"Ulaz." He rasped.

He recalled his name. Good.

"Yes." Ulaz said, giving him a nod of his head. "You have nothing to fear here, young one. We are far away from where you were before. They will not find us here."

The child looked hesitant still, though there was hope lingering in his eyes. It's Galran was strange, stilted, as if it _knew_ it, but had never cause to actually _speak_ it before now. "The witch will not find us here?"

"The witch?" Ulaz questioned, willing himself to not allow his blood to freeze. "Zarkon's witch?"

What had the child done to earn her attention?

The child's reply, however, was perhaps the most puzzling thing yet. Brows furrowed, he searched his face, as if he expected to find answers there. "Who is Zarkon?"

Now that, Ulaz did blink at. How could a Galra child, imprisoned on one of the empire's very own ships, _not_ be aware of who the emperor was? The notion that they might have been raised there since it was a mere infant was a horrifying one, but no- he had a rough time imagining that anyone would have bothered to teach him words, were that the case.

Another theory quickly presented itself to him, and Ulaz frowned.

"The witch cannot find you here, young one. I will see to it myself." He told him. "But you must tell me something- do you know why you were on that ship?"

"I-" the child began to say, before he stopped himself, the anxious flicking of it's tail telling of it's own turmoil, "...I don't."

"I've just," he spoke again, sounding as if he were trying to process the answer for himself, "...I've just always been on that ship."

"For how long?" Ulaz asked, making sure to keep his tone steady.

"For... for as long as I can remember." The child told him.

"Which is?" Another gentle push, and he would get the confirmation that he feared.

"...not very long." The child admitted with a whisper. "I don't... I _can't_ remember anything."

And there it was, out in the open. Just as he feared.

Traumatic memory loss was one possibility, but when Zarkon's witch was involved, nothing was ever that simple. He would need a more thorough exam to confirm the worst of his fears, but Ulaz could only hope that his instincts were wrong this time.

But, he thought, listening to the faint grumble of the child's stomach- perhaps it could wait for another time. There seemed to be a far more important need to tend to right now.

"Well then," rising to his feet, Ulaz extended a hand to the child, "...perhaps our first order of business is to ensure you have a proper meal, young one. Let us deal with the needs of the physical first, and then worry about the rest later."

Slowly, the child took his hand, allowing Ulaz to haul him up onto his feet. There seemed to be an almost lack of balance to his step, as if there were some factor throwing it all off. The child himself seemed to be aware of this, grumbling to himself as he allowed Ulaz to lead him from the small sleeping quarters of the communications base, to where he took his meals.

He would not be able to keep him here, he knew. It was not built for more than one occupant, not for an extended period of time. Perhaps he could talk Kolivan into taking him to the main base- they would have to, in reality, if they wanted to run more extensive tests in order determine the root cause of his memory loss.

If the witch had taken an interest in this one, then it was prudent to find out why. He only wished that he'd had the time to download information from the prisoner transport before he'd made his escape, but he'd had to make a choice- and he chose the living, breathing child before him.

(Knowledge or death was all fine and good when you'd dedicated yourself to that cause, but he'd never enforce it on one who hadn't.)

"Can you think of anything that you wish to be called by?" Ulaz asked, helping the child into a chair, solving the mystery of his imperfect balance by the way he nearly sat on his own tail, as if it failed to factor it in. "I cannot keep calling you young one."

The child seemed to ponder this for a long moment, before shaking his head. "The witch took it."

A pause, a crinkle of a brow.

"I think."

Ulaz did not allow his breath to hitch in his throat. If that were confirmation of his worst fear... he did not like to think what it meant for the child's future.

"Would you like me to think of something?" Ulaz asked.

The child seemed to dwell on this for a moment, before giving him a curt nod. It had showed itself as vulnerable earlier, and was now drawing back in- though he did not seem intent on pushing him all the way out, for which Ulaz was glad.

"Very well then." Ulaz said, returning his nod with one of his own. "I shall endeavor to think of one."

* * *

Kethe.

Of the many names that he had thrown out to the child, this was the one that they had settled on. Were his ears more expressive, they likely would have perked at the sound of it, but they were much more akin to those of his own.

Kethe, as it turned out, had quite the appetite- enough to put a small dent into the base's food supply. It was good to see, given how skin and bones he was. He could not imagine how long it had been since he'd had a full meal.

Kolivan, as he expected, was not pleased.

Kethe had lurked in the background of the call, watching Kolivan with no small degree of wariness- but also curiosity. In the end, he agreed to allow him to bring Kethe to the main base, where they could hope to unravel the enigma that seemed to be his entire being.

With not much else to do to pass the time, they talked on the way there. Kethe's voice, once raspy with disuse, grew stronger still, which was heartening to hear. Any worries that he might have about him being feral slipped away- he seemed to give himself to his more primal instincts more easily, but he was not by any stretch of the word feral.

There was so much that he simply did not know, Ulaz found. Not knowing who Zarkon was had only been the start.

Perhaps the most alarming thing he learned was that Kethe did not even know _his own race_. He had no awareness of what a Galra was- much less that he himself, was one. All told, there was simply so much that the child did not know- not even how long he had been held captive in that ship.

He suspected even if he could give him an estimate, that it would be longer still than that. If the witch had truly stolen away his memories, then it would have been a long process, even for one of her skill. Ulaz shuddered at the thought- the child would have likely greeted each new day with the horrifying realization that more and more of his memories were slipping away from him.

Waking up to remember nothing at all must have been a blessing compared to that.

It was Antok who waited to greet them, tall and imposing as he always was, making the child seem all the smaller. Ulaz knew that underneath the mask, he was likely looking at Kethe with concern- Kolivan's displeasure, it seemed, had not been wholly directed towards himself.

That the witch's depravity knew no bounds was not uncommon knowledge amongst the Blade. All knew what sort of monster she was.

Guiding the pair inside of the base, Antok lead them to what Ulaz knew was the medical ward. At the sight of it, Kethe went tense by his side. Perhaps he possessed no memories of what was done to him, but _fear_ was something that ran deep- melded into flesh and bone as if it had always been there.

"Relax, young one. No one here is going to hurt you." Ulaz reassured him. "We wish to help you. But to do that, we will need to understand."

Kethe frowned, but slowly nodded.

"I will stay with the child until the tests are concluded." Antok spoke, the suddenness of it startling them both, though Kethe all the worse. "You have much to discuss with Kolivan, Ulaz."

"I suspect that I do." Ulaz frowned. "Antok here is a friend of mine, from my days of training. He will look after you well, Kethe. You can trust him."

Another curt nod, Kethe's gaze seeming to size Antok up. There was something of a warrior's gaze in it- a studious gaze of assessment, habit, instinct that no manner of memory theft could wash away.

The child's mystery grew more curious.

* * *

The results came back, and the child's mystery took a disturbing turn.

Pacing was not something he was accustomed to doing, nor ever truly felt the urge to do- up until this point. He only fought this new urge due to the fact that he was not alone in the room. "Kolivan, are you telling me that he is _not_ Galra?"

"No." Kolivan said frankly, his face a mask- he barely even needed the real one to conceal what he was truly thinking. "He _is_ Galra. Only more than he should be."

More than he should be. The child's lack of balance, his unfamiliarity with his own tail- a hybrid, of some kind. Or a _once_ hybrid, he thought, going over the results once more, as if they might have changed since he'd looked at them, not even a minute ago. Whatever he might have been before, there was barely a trace of it in him now- it was as if everything had been pushed out, overwritten by Galran DNA.

New sequences had been spliced in, bit by bit, piece by piece. Not only had the witch been stripping away his memories, but she'd been altering his very being at the same time. Truly, not remembering might perhaps be the best thing that could have happened to him.

There was nothing they could do to reverse the process. That much quickly became apparent.

"Do we tell him?" Ulaz asked.

"Do you think it wise?" Kolivan asked in turn- and for his leader to ask a question like that of him, he must have truly been interested in his answer.

"No." Ulaz said firmly. "No, we shouldn't."

The child must _know_ , in some way, Ulaz realized. Even if he did not remember, his body would. Keeping the truth from him would do nothing to erase that, but even so- perhaps not knowing, in this case, would be for the best. If the change were as deep as the results seemed to imply, it was possible that whatever life he had left behind him, he could no longer return to.

Waking up with no memories was bad enough. Waking up and knowing, for sure, that you were in the wrong body? He could not push that on him.

"Then we will not." Kolivan said simply. "The child's memories appear to be quite gone, but there are none of the witch's tendrils in him."

That much was good news, if nothing else.

"What will we do with him?" Ulaz asked. "We cannot just send him away Kolivan, surely you must realize this. You know as well as I that the witch never does anything for her own entertainment- there is always a purpose behind her actions."

"I fear that whatever she wanted with the child, that she had much larger plans in mind than what was already done to him." He warned, his expression grim. "He would be safest here, with the Blade of Marmora."

"Most likely you are right." Kolivan told him, his expression grim. "We will keep him here. Perhaps he can be trained."

Giving his leader a curt nod of his head, Ulaz breathed out. "Perhaps with time, he'll be able to recall something of himself."

It was... unlikely, though not impossible, Ulaz knew. This was no simple memory loss- Kethe's memories had been stolen from him, ripped away by the witch and banished into nothing. Perhaps she'd planned to implant new ones in their place- a thought which gnawed at him with dread.

"Where are you on decoding the transmissions the transport ship sent?" Kolivan asked. "If we knew who the child was, we would have some idea as to why the witch considers him so important."

"It is not going well." Ulaz admitted, with all frankness. "To go to such lengths in order to hide what kind of experiments she was conducting- she must have truly thought him vital."

"Continue to look." Kolivan instructed him. "That is all, for the moment. I am sure the child is likely anxious to see you at this point. You should go to him."

"I shall." Ulaz told him, pausing only for a moment. "Do you intend to have him join the order?"

"If he shows the potential." Kolivan said simply. "If he can pass the trials."

Recalling the gaze with which he had studied Antok, Ulaz could only smile. "I believe he just might."

* * *

He had a name now.

Kethe. Ulaz had given him many choices, but that was the one he had chosen for himself. It felt the most right out of them- he liked to think that perhaps it was close to his real name, which still remained lost to him.

The name made him feel more whole, if nothing else. He was _Kethe_ , not just a nameless prisoner.

Ulaz had brought him to the base where his people lived. They were rebels, he'd been told, who fought against Zarkon and his empire- and to that extent, the witch. If they fought against the witch, then this group of rebels, this _Blade of Marmora_ , were surely allies of his own.

The offer to join them was on the table, and it was one that he hadn't hesitated to take. Maybe he couldn't get back what was stolen from him, but if nothing else, then he could take his revenge.

Joining the Blade of Marmora wasn't so easy, though he never had any illusions that it would be. He'd have to undergo training first- in any number of things. That was fine- whatever it took, it would be worth it. It wasn't as if anything else could be taken from him at this point, other than his life.

Maybe he would even _gain_ something here.

They had taught him many things already- things about himself, about what he was. _Galra_ , they told him, the same as the rest of them. He was Galra. It was right and yet not, some deeper part of him sensed. Still, he knew not what else he might be, so he embraced the explanation that he had been given, grateful to know at least one small something about himself.

They told him that his memories had been taken from him- and that the chances that they might return were slim. He tried to deny that it pained him, tried to pretend that he would be able to make do without them. With time, he would make new memories- but it wouldn't be the same, wouldn't replace the time lost to him.

Was he even the same person as he was before? He didn't know, couldn't know. Tried not to think on it. Buried himself in his training, in his studies, in order to avoid thinking about it.

They taught him about the war, about the empire. A ten thousand year old reign was something that he just couldn't fully wrap his head around, no matter how hard he tried. How could he? His memory only extended back two months at this point, the notion of a year was far distant still.

There were things that they taught him, and things they didn't need to teach him. Whoever he might have been before, it was clear that he knew how to _fly_ \- like an instinct bred into him. He'd only needed to familiarize himself with the controls, for it all to come back to him as if it had never even left. It was a talent that he felt himself taking pride in, for he didn't have much else.

He knew how to fight, too, as it turned out. Not as well as the members of the order, but enough to get by. With proper training, his skills, rough and unpolished, would improve, and he leapt at every chance he got to do so. It was like scratching an itch that he hadn't known had existed, and at times, he had to be physically dragged away from one of their many training decks in order to get him to take a break.

Because he knew how to fight, he did- he just had no idea how to _balance_. It had improved, over the past two months, but he still found himself being thrown off when he least expected it, leaving him vulnerable, _weak_ \- and he could not, would not, have that.

A Blade by the name of Regris was put in charge of him, teaching him any number of things. He was young, younger than some of the other Blades, but older still than him- at least, everyone thought so. In truth, his age, like much everything else about himself, was something of a mystery.

Regris had been picked for his (assumed) proximity in age, but also because he too, possessed a tail. His own tail was not fully prehensile like Regris' own, but watching the older Galra seemed to help his balance right itself, to see how the motions were meant to be carried out with the appendage in mind. It was teaching his body to follow through on that, that was the trick.

He wasn't stupid, he knew what that meant.

"I don't think I used to have a tail." He told Regris one day.

"Perhaps not." Regris merely replied. "It's hard to say just what the witch did to you."

"You mean _other_ than vaporize my memories?" Kethe dryly asked.

"Other than that, yes." Regris noted, an edge of amusement on his face.

Slowly letting his gaze drift downwards, Kethe looped his tail around, resting it in his lap. He'd begun to understand it more, take control of it in a way that he hadn't his first few weeks, but on bad days, it still felt alien to him, keenly reminding him that it was _wrong_ and should not have been there.

The bad days were becoming less and less. He couldn't decide if he were grateful or not.

"Do you not like it?" Regris asked, watching him with unmasked curiosity.

Scrunching up his nose, Kethe watched as the tip of it twitched. "Sometimes."

Regris seemed to mull over this for a moment, before giving him an understanding nod of his head. "Better to be honest about it than not. Perhaps it will get easier with time."

"Maybe." Kethe mused. "I'll settle for not tripping over it."

That earns a laugh out of Regris- especially considering that's why he's _on_ the floor to begin with. Extending him a hand, Kethe takes it, allowing the older Galran to pull him up off the floor.

"Let's hope."

* * *

Kethe was a curiosity.

Kolivan took it upon himself to monitor the child's progress. It had been three months since he'd arrived at their main base, and in that time, he'd begun to show his own personality. Stubbornness was the first trait that managed to stand out- stubborn and persistent, often combined to reckless behavior.

Dedicated, for sure. When he put himself to the task of learning something, he did not stop until he'd gotten the basics down- and sometimes not even then. He could at times, be somewhat cocky, yet never entirely arrogant- an odd mix, to be sure. His instincts served him well, but could just as easily put him in danger, for he seemed to fail to share what he was thinking, and simply acted upon them without proper communication.

(Krolia. He reminded him of Krolia.)

But he had talent, that Kolivan could not deny.

His skill as a pilot, certainly, was undeniable. His memories of the how, who, and the where of it were long gone, but the skill remained behind, deeply ingrained in his body. He'd talent with the sword- though rough and untrained, still, there was potential for something much greater there.

He was also clumsy and uncoordinated, further confirming the belief that he'd not previously possessed a tail. He had been steadily improving on that front, but it would still often catch unaware- sometimes he would still find himself sitting on his own tail, letting out a word that Kolivan was not familiar with, but was almost certain was an expletive whenever he did so.

(This _fuck_ had caught on, at least among the younger members. He was going to pretend that he hadn't heard Antok mutter it underneath his breath the other day.)

He would often find himself at a loss for the things that would slip out of him without thinking- he would use a certain turn of phrase, but then be unable to explain what it meant. They must have come from his native world, wherever that might be, and had lingered, without any of the context to go with them.

Thanks to Ulaz's work on decoding the transmissions from the transport ship, they at least had some idea as to where he came from. Or where he had been _captured_ , if nothing else.

And that, was precisely where things became interesting.

The galactic hub located at those coordinates supposedly did not actually exist. It was not until they had sent a small recon mission to them, that they discovered it was very real. Further investigation proved it also to be abandoned- though there were signs that it had been recently been active, within the past year.

It was as if once they had captured him there, they had decided to scrap the entire base. And that was very much worthy of note.

* * *

Ulaz was dead.

It was news that weighed heavily in his heart, as much as he fought not to show it.

Without Ulaz, he might have never made it off that ship. Might still be in the witch's hands- or worse. He owed so much to him, every ounce of freedom that he had, and now he was gone.

Four months might not have seemed like a lot of time to anyone else- but to Kethe, it was all that he had. In those four months, from start to finish, Ulaz had always been there- maybe not always in person, he was charged with monitoring a distant communications base, but he was still always just a transmission away.

Ulaz, who actually listened to all of his rambling, all of his vented uncertainties. Ulaz, who was the only one that he trusted enough to let him know just how it got to him sometimes, knowing nothing. Ulaz, who always seemed to understand, or at least, always tried to understand.

Ulaz, who had given up his life to save the lives of others.

It wasn't the first time Kethe had heard about this _Voltron_. He'd heard the legends, of course, but he'd heard the more recent history as well. The five paladins of Voltron, who piloted the five lions of Voltron, who combined to form the _actual_ Voltron. It sounded like something he should have trouble picturing, and yet, he never did.

They were in the company of an Altean princess- a long dead race otherwise wiped out by Zarkon, one of many. The paladins themselves came from some planet called Earth, and identified as humans, a race which had not yet developed the ability to travel beyond it's own solar system. It sounded familiar, and yet didn't, all at once.

There had been rumors, awhile back, that the red paladin had vanished, but since the red lion still flew, it would seem that they weren't true after all.

(If the way it flew was a bit different from before, nobody seemed to much notice.)

They had made contact with Ulaz, it seemed. He'd implanted coordinates into the false arm of the black paladin, when he'd helped him escape a Galra ship, and many months later, they had shown up on his doorstep.

(An odd turn of phrase, Kethe thought, wondering what a doorstep was, exactly.)

They- or at least the black paladin- had wanted to make contact with the Blade of Marmora, seeking allies in their fight against Zarkon. But they'd been followed there, the witch sending one of her beasts after them. In order to save them, Ulaz had given his own life.

What kind of _defenders of the universe_ couldn't defeat even one monster? It was a thought that sat heavy in his gut, mourning over the loss of Ulaz and feeling unsettled about thinking so ill of the paladins, for reasons that he could not fully comprehend.

It remained to be seen if they would actually come or not. Ulaz had told them to figure out how they were being tracked before they did, as none of them were too keen on the idea of leading Zarkon straight to them.

Maybe they would come, maybe they wouldn't. Kethe hoped they did- he wanted to see what sort of people they were, that Ulaz would give his own life for them.

And something more besides that. Faint, fuzzy. He couldn't get a grip on what it was, so he simply tried not to think about it.

He'd other things to worry about, to busy his time. His trials were coming, in a months time. It was Ulaz's death that had made him choose it- and he knew that everyone else was against it. Too young, they all said- in body, but most especially in mind.

Kethe didn't care. He'd chosen.

Knowledge or death.

(But not the knowledge he sought most.)

* * *

Ulaz's loss had struck Kethe deeply, Kolivan could tell.

He knew that they spoke often, and he knew that Kethe held him with great value. It was to be expected- he was his rescuer, who had freed him from dire circumstances. That his loss would shake him was anticipated- he knew nothing, and thus consequently knew nothing of loss.

He had informed Kethe of Ulaz's passing, of the choice that he had made, and the circumstances that had lead up to it. All this, he deserved to know- and if he did not tell him, Kolivan suspected he would find out on his own anyways. Kethe's temper was a trait that emerged a bit later than the others, but once it had made itself known, it was hard to miss.

His anger at Voltron for causing this loss was visible to all. His internal conflict with it, less so. Kolivan sensed that he himself did not understand the reason behind it, and as many such things like it, he kept it bottled up, hidden.

It was not the whole of the reason that he chose not to tell him everything, but it was a part of it. This information he would not allow to be spread around the base- the fewer who knew of it, the better.

Ulaz had briefed him about the paladins of Voltron, before he had gone back for them. Most pertinently, that they were currently searching for three people, all of whom were human. Sam and Matthew Holt, family of the green paladin, who had been taken by the empire alongside the Champion- and current black paladin.

But also Keith Kogane, the paladin of the red lion.

The red lion still flew, that he knew. But it's paladin was not the one that it had first chosen- it was merely allowing itself to be flown by the Altean princess, in lieu of it's own chosen paladin.

They had been searching for him for months, with no avail. He had vanished on a recon mission, presumed to be abducted by the empire. They had been interrupted by the appearance of one of the witch's beasts before they'd had the chance to go into more detail, but Kolivan suspected he already knew the _where_.

Six months ago, the red paladin- _Keith_ \- had vanished without a trace.

Six months ago, Kethe had been abducted from a hidden transport hub.

Kolivan did not believe in coincidences.

* * *

In truth, no one knew what to expect.

The trial had never before been attempted by someone with no memory. It was part of the reason that they had attempted to talk Kethe out of it- but he would not listen. Ulaz's death had lit a fire in him, one that did not seem as if it would be put out anytime soon.

It was Kolivan who had assented, in the end.

Let him try, and see what comes of it.

Kethe's stubborn perseverance took none of them by surprise- all who knew him had cause to know of it. He was wont to ignore his own limits, in favor of pushing on, always acting as if he had something to prove. That he would last as long as he did was of no surprise to anyone, nor that he would use such a sly move to get past the combat portion of the trial. These were all things that they knew, expected.

What they didn't know what to expect was what would come after.

Kolivan, who had watched over countless trials, had never seen a mindscape so completely and utterly _blank_ before, bereft of near anything. It would flicker, at times, changing in the blink of an eye and lasting just about as long. Things they recognized- the inside of a cell, glimpses of their own base.

And things they did not.

A vague flicker, earth tones and dust.

A brief glimpse of stark white and glowing blue.

The interior of a cockpit, doused in red.

Six figures, barely even silhouettes, flickering like a flame. One, marked by black, nearly melted into the void of the mindscape.

They were fragments. Small, weak, and likely all that remained behind. All that he had left.

It was one thing to be told there was nothing, and an entirely different thing to be _shown_ it. When his blade awakened, none questioned what his own trial had been- moving forward when one had nothing was perhaps the most challenging trial of them all.

Kethe gripped the transformed blade tight, as if it were a lifeline.

Likely, it was.

* * *

The paladins of Voltron were here.

They had come after all, Kethe thought to himself, unable to deny that he was brimming with curiosity. These were the people that Ulaz valued so highly, that he had given his life for them- how could he not be the least bit curious? He had to find out for himself if they had really been worth it, these _defenders of the universe_.

But it seemed Kolivan was only calling for the senior members to greet them. Most definitely not him- he'd barely only just passed his own trial two weeks ago now.

Or so he thought.

Kolivan wanted him to come.

It struck him as odd, but since it suited his needs, Kethe didn't much question it. It gave him a chance to regard these humans at his own leisure, from behind the security of his own mask, flanked on all sides by other Blades. Two of them came- the black paladin and the blue, one a pale peach, and the other a rich brown. Earth tones.

Humans. Something about their appearance struck a chord in him, though he could not understand why.

"Ulaz sent us here." The black paladin- _Shiro_ , he'd given his name as- was the one to speak. "He gave his life so that we might have a chance to forge an alliance."

He seemed to value Ulaz's sacrifice, Kethe thought. Good, as he should.

He did not know if Kolivan would agree to the alliance or not. Some part of him hoped that he would. He wanted to know more about these paladins.

In the end, an agreement was reached. The paladins would take Kolivan onto their ship with them, where they would discuss a much larger plan with the rest of their number. Kolivan would not go alone- he'd picked two other members to take with him.

Antok was a natural choice, he was always at the leader's right hand. As for the other... Regris, perhaps, or Ilun.

He did not expect Kolivan's masked gaze to shift onto him.

"Kethe. Come."

* * *

Kethe's head jerked up at the mention of his name, and Kolivan did not need to see his face to know that he was staring at him in confusion.

He was not the only one- a low murmur swept through the room at his choice. In ordinary circumstances, he would have never chosen one so young, so fresh from the trials, for a task such as this.

But these were not ordinary circumstances.

He'd a theory, and it needed confirmation. The fastest way to do that was to bring him with him, and see what came of it.

Should they prove correct... even Kolivan could not guess at what would come next.


	2. paladin side

Oh look, it's the next part! I know I said at the outset that this would be told in two parts, but it looks like there will be a third part after all? I couldn't wrap up everything that I wanted to in this part without having it get too long, so the third part will be Keith's part, I think. Sometimes you never know how long something will be until you actually set out to write it!

Hopefully I can actually upload this when I want to, since as I'm writing this, my internet has _just now_ decided it's going to be super finicky. Gee, thanks.

* * *

abyss of memory

paladin side

* * *

They arrived to find only a cracked helmet and an abandoned bayard.

Other than those, not a single trace of him. It was like he had just vanished into thin air. A biorhythm scan of the transport hub showed that he was no longer on it- even when they'd done it a second, and then a third time, just so they could be sure.

When they knew that they couldn't stay any longer without risking them all being captured, they had been forced to leave. Without him- without Keith.

"It's my fault." Lance whispered. "I- I shouldn't have let him leave. I should have tried harder to stop him."

"It is not your fault, Lance." Allura spoke. "I was the one who suggested that we have a look at the hub. If there is anyone at fault here, it would be me."

"If I'd gotten there faster in Green..." Pidge trailed off, her fingers curling tight into the palm of her hands. She said no more, but in that moment, she was easy to read- she'd already lost two people to the Galra, and now she blamed herself for losing yet another.

"No." It was Shiro who spoke now. "No, we _can't_ do this. We can't get caught up in blaming ourselves for what went wrong. What we need to concentrate on doing is making it _right_."

His tone was resolute, firm. He couldn't afford to show them anything else.

Because if there was anyone to blame here, it was him.

He was the oldest here, out of all the paladins. He was supposed to be their leader, supposed to keep them safe. When they'd first landed on Arus, what felt like such a long time ago, it was the first thing that he'd made clear- he'd already lost one crew to aliens, and he didn't plan on losing another.

And it was _Keith_. Keith, who was more than just a fellow paladin to him. Keith, who was like his younger brother, like _family_. He was supposed to look after him, but where was he when he needed him the most?

It didn't even matter to him now that he had just barely escaped from the ship he'd infiltrated with Allura. To hear it all play out over their com line... Pidge's frantic voice as she arrived where Keith's signal had been, only to find him nowhere, and be unable to do anything? He could barely stand it.

He'd failed.

He'd failed Keith.

Keith, who trusted him, even when he didn't trust anyone else. Keith, who looked up to him, who had never given up on him after Kerberos. He'd failed him, yes, but now was the time to return that favor- to do everything in his power to find him, to bring him home.

He knew, all too well, just how the Galra treated their prisoners. His memory of his time as their captive was patchwork, full of holes, but he recalled just enough to know that it had been hell. And that had been when he was just a simple, random prisoner, taken by chance.

But Keith was a paladin of Voltron.

If... if they didn't find him, if they didn't get him back... he couldn't even imagine what might be in store for him.

"Where do we even start to _look_?" Pidge asked, her shoulders squared. "We don't even know where they've taken him."

"Yeah, he kind of just... vanished." Lance said. "He could be anywhere with that creepy dude by now."

"He couldn't have just _vanished_." Shiro said. "Pidge, do you have the data that you downloaded from the hub's computers?"

"I do, yeah." Glancing up at him, Pidge gave him a curt nod of her head.

"Good. We can use it to track the ships that were docked there at the same time we were." Shiro said. "It's possible Keith was taken aboard one of them. We can start looking from there."

At least it was unlikely he'd been taken aboard the ship heading to Central Command- not that it would stop him from going after him, not in the slightest. He'd fight Zarkon with nothing but his fists if he had to, if that was what it took to bring Keith home.

"Shiro's right." Allura spoke- though it was clear that she was still taking this all rather hard, feeling what she viewed as her burnt of the blame. "We _will_ find him."

* * *

One day turned into two. Two into three- and before they knew it, a week had passed.

They all had assumed that word would have spread of Keith's capture by now. That the empire would boast that they had successfully captured one of the paladins of Voltron. But there was nothing but radio silence from them on the matter- and it was leaving them all with a strong sense of unease.

"He's... he's fine, right?" The question bubbled to the surface one night during their evening meal, Hunk unable to keep it in. "They couldn't have..."

Nobody needed him to finish. It was there, in the back of their minds, a cold, constant presence- none of them wanted to think it, but it refused to go away.

None of them wanted to think that he could be dead.

"I mean, they _couldn't_ have, right?" Hunk continued. He wanted to stop, but the words wouldn't stop, like a dam breaking after trying to hold too much for too long. "Keith's- Keith's a fighter. He wouldn't give in that easily, right?"

"He's a fighter, alright." Lance mumbled, voice just barely audible. "But we all know what they do to _fighters_."

Shiro didn't even need to look up to know that everyone's gaze was fixed on him. He did anyways.

"He's not in the pits." Shiro told them- forcing himself to keep composed, forcing himself to sound resolute, resolved. "If he was, we'd have heard about it by now."

He didn't actually know that for a fact. Maybe he _was_ in the pits, right now, as they spoke, being forced to fight for his life. That Keith could survive there... likely he could, probably even better than he had. It was knowledge that brought no comfort- only made it worse, if anything.

"Then where _is_ he?" Pidge hissed. "We checked all of the ships that left the hub during that time, and none of them had any trace of Keith."

That was true too. He didn't want to admit it, but they all knew the truth- that they'd hit a dead end in their search.

"I don't know, Pidge." Shiro admitted, because he couldn't lie, not here. "But we'll find him."

* * *

When a week became two, and then three, they all knew that it couldn't be ignored any longer.

Four paladins for five lions. It was simple math. They were one paladin short, and being one paladin short meant that they couldn't form Voltron. They had somehow managed to scrape by thus far, but the call today had been too close, and if anything had gone wrong... well, there might be no one left to look for Keith.

"We need," Allura said, her shoulders tense, forcing herself to bring the subject up, "...to consider finding a new red paladin."

"So what," Pidge spoke, her glare filled with venom. "...we're just _giving up_ on Keith?"

"Nobody is giving up on anyone." Shiro told her. "This will only just be temporary. We'll find him, Pidge."

Hunk didn't mean to say it. He really didn't mean to. It just came out.

"...will we?"

* * *

The red lion accepted Allura as it's paladin, but it was clear to them all that it wasn't happy about it. They learned to form Voltron anew, but it wasn't the same. It was weaker, more fragile- as if they were all afraid of what it would mean if it became anything but.

It would be as if they'd given up on Keith.

No one wanted that.

* * *

Not many people knew it, but Shiro cleaned to cope.

He'd lost count of the number of times he'd cleaned Keith's room. When- _if_ , some darker part of him whispered- he came back, he didn't want it to be covered in a layer of dust. He wanted it to feel as if he'd never even left.

The only thing he didn't touch was his knife. That he left alone, recalling how much he had disliked it when people tried to touch it, as if he feared they'd take it away from him.

Everything else was fair game, however. Not that he had all that much- sometimes it felt too much like no one had ever lived here.

He hadn't meant to find the photograph. He didn't even know that Keith had _kept_ it, much less brought it into space with him. He still didn't know how he'd managed to talk him into it- Keith _hated_ having his photo taken. The photo they'd taken together when he'd gotten into the Galaxy Garrison was the only one Shiro even had of him- and here it was, tucked away in one of the pouches on Keith's belt.

Two months.

It had been two months since Keith had gone missing.

And all it took was a single photograph to break him.

* * *

He recovered.

He had to. Voltron couldn't afford the loss of two of its paladins.

(He kept the photograph.)

* * *

If they kept saying _six months_ , maybe they wouldn't have to acknowledge that Keith had been missing for half a year.

"He's dead, isn't he." Lance whispered at dinner, and they all desperately tried to pretend they hadn't heard him.

* * *

"I am against this."

Allura's tone was stern, unwavering, her jaw set in very much the same way. For that, Shiro could not blame her- he knew what he was proposing. Knew what the Galra had done to her, to her people- so for her to be against the idea of a potential alliance with them, even a fringe group of rebels, was not to be unexpected.

"We _need_ allies." Shiro told her.

"We will find others." Allura told him. "Ones more trustworthy."

Shiro let out a long breath, growing somewhat weary of this. "They might have information on Keith."

It was subtle, the way something in Allura's gaze softened, but also unmistakable. The silence lingered between them for a moment longer, before she finally spoke, closing her eyes least they betray her more.

"Very well."

* * *

"We're looking," Shiro began, his tone firm and resolute, betraying nothing of how he really felt, "...for one of our fellow paladins. Keith Kogane, paladin of the red lion."

"I was under the impression that the Altean princess flew the red lion." Ulaz observed, his mouth set in a tight frown.

"She does." Shiro told him. "For now, at least. But Keith flew it before."

Before the Galra captured him. Before he'd failed to protect him.

"I do not know if it will be of any assistance to you, but we do have some records of prisoners here." Ulaz told them. "I can transmit the information to your ship. When was he taken?"

"Six months ago, on a reconnaissance mission." Shiro said. "We've been looking for him ever since."

It was an answer that seemed to trouble Ulaz- but before he had a chance to question him further, the loud blaring of an alarm cut him off. The Galra Empire had tracked them here, sending one of their robeasts after them. It would seem the time for questions would have to wait.

(He wouldn't get the chance. Ulaz would instead sacrifice himself for them.)

* * *

The Blade of Marmora was willing to ally with them.

Shiro would be lying if he tried to claim that he hadn't let out a breath of relief at the news. For awhile, he'd been starting to think that Allura had been right, that coming here had been a mistake after all.

He knew that the princess- and the rest of the paladins- were still ill at ease with the idea of forging an alliance with the Galran rebels. He could understand- they had only known the Galra as the enemy, Ulaz's sacrifice not withstanding. The princess, especially, had lost much to them. It was not so unreasonable to think that they would be hesitant to trust them.

From the sound of it, they would be bringing three of their number with them back to the castle-ship, in order to go over more detailed plans. Their leader, Kolivan, would be one of their number, as would one of the Galra who had greeted them upon their arrival- a hulking behemoth by the name of Antok.

The third...

"Kethe. Come."

Shiro was not too proud to admit that his head hadn't jerked up at the name- and out of the corner of his eye, he could spot Lance doing much the same. It didn't sound _exactly_ like Keith- it was a two syllable name, less curt. But it was jarring enough to catch his attention, drawing his focus towards the Blade who carried the name.

They were small- much smaller than the other Blades. Around Lance's height, if not a little taller, if he had to guess. Hanging over one shoulder was a thick braid of black hair, the color of it making something in his chest leap. Clad in the same armor as the rest of the Blades, their face was masked from them.

But it wasn't him, he recognized in an instant. The Blade had four toes to a foot and a tail, marking him unmistakably as Galra.

He didn't even know why he'd hoped, feeling foolish for having done so. The Blade of Marmora were a group of _Galran_ rebels- they wouldn't have accepted a human as one of their number. Even if they had, Keith would have come forward the moment they'd stepped on base- even if someone tried to stop him. The Galra that joined Kolivan and Antok hadn't even so much as reacted when they'd entered.

No, this was simply a Galra with a name that was a bit similar to his own.

He half wanted to tell Kolivan to pick someone else, _anyone_ else. But it wasn't his choice.

Kolivan knew his own men the best. If he'd chosen this _Kethe_ to accompany them, then there must have been good reason for it. He'd just have to trust him.

* * *

Kolivan removed his mask.

Antok and Kethe did not.

Shiro didn't know why he was so disappointed- maybe he just thought it showed a lack of trust on their part. Or maybe there was still some small part of him that wanted to see Kethe's face, to confirm beyond a shadow of a doubt that there was no way that he could possibly be Keith.

And there _was_ no way.

He didn't even know why he was considering it, other than just sheer desperation at this point. It had been so long without any word as to his fate, that at this point, he was basically just grasping at straws.

Keith had been missing for _seven months_ \- if he'd been with the Blade all that time, why would he have not made any effort to contact them? Surely he must have known they'd be looking for him. If he'd been safe, why not try and get in touch with them, and let them know?

Besides, Keith wasn't Galra. Sure, he could grow a couple of inches in seven months, but growing a _tail_? Yeah, that wasn't going to happen.

And the tail was real, no mistake about it. It was about the only thing that wasn't covered by the Marmoran armor, so he could see it in full. Thin, covered in lavender fur, save for the very tip which looked as if it had been dipped in ink, much like the braid of hair that hung over his shoulder.

So. No way this could be Keith. _None_.

It would be so much easier to convince himself of that were it not for the fact that his body language practically _screamed_ Keith. Watching him stand by Kolivan's side, arms folded in front of his chest, it was all too easy to visualize Keith's face, set in a serious expression as he studied the schematics. He barely spoke- but that too, was too much like Keith for him to be at ease with.

Frankly? It was starting to drive him crazy.

Why would Keith even _be_ with the Blade of Marmora? Why would he have not said anything to them? Why would he be pretending not to know them? Why would Kolivan not say anything, if one of their own really was their long missing red paladin? None of that made sense, the only real explanation being that this _wasn't_ Keith.

"Kethe," Kolivan spoke, "...you will assist the yellow paladin with retrieving the scaultrite."

Allura looked like she wanted to protest- she clearly did not like the idea of leaving one of her paladins alone with a Galra, rebel or not. But retrieving the scaultrite would not be a one man job, and they couldn't afford to divide manpower from their mission to rescue Slav, so she was forced to accept it.

Kethe merely gave a curt, wordless nod of confirmation- and god help him if that wasn't _exactly_ the kind of thing Keith would do.

* * *

"So it's uh," trying not to dwell too hard on the notion that there was a Galra alone with him in his cockpit, Hunk bit down on his lip, "...it's Kethe, right?"

How. How did he end up in this situation, Hunk found himself wondering. Sure, sure, he was glad not to have to go into the Weblum alone, but how was it that he was the one who _always_ seemed to get stuck with the worst jobs? First he had to go to a Galra infested planet to get his lion, then a Galra infested Balmera to get a crystal, and now here he was, on his way to fetch some weird mineral from some weird space worm, with a Galra.

A Galra that was their ally, sure, true enough- but still. _Galra_.

This would have been _way_ less awkward if it weren't for the weird name thing. Keith. Kethe. It wasn't just him right? He wasn't the only one who had noticed that, right?

"It's Kethe." The Galra replied, his voice distorted. There must have been some kind of filter in the mask, which made sense. Secret society and all that.

"Right, right." Hunk said with a nod. "I know we all got introduced back in the Castle, but I'm Hunk."

"I know." Kethe told him.

 _And_ awkward silence time again. Okay, he could do this.

"So, uh, you ever... you ever been inside a Weblum before?" Hunk asked- and immediately regretted it. What the hell kind of question was _that_?

"Don't know." Came the curt reply.

Okay, that was a weird answer. "You don't know?" Hunk asked. "I mean, no offense dude, but shouldn't that be like, something you should remember?"

"Probably?" Kethe responded, and Hunk swore he could _hear_ the frown on his voice. Sorry Keith, he was mentally supplying this guy with your facial expressions. "I don't remember too far back."

That. Okay. That was a weird statement.

"So do you uh, have like, amnesia or something?" Hunk asked, which _wow_ , invasive question much, good job. "Is that a thing Galra can get?"

" _Yes_." Kethe's reply was curt, and it was more than obvious that he'd managed to trip a nerve. "Look- can we just watch the video about the Weblum? I don't know how you _paladins_ do things," and uh, wow, there seemed to be some underlying issues there he was picking up on, "...but this is a mission."

"Sorry, yeah, we can- we can watch the video." Hunk stammered, scrambling to bring up the video that Coran had uploaded to the yellow lion.

Wow, Coran's video was not doing much for the awkward silence, was it? Casting a glance back towards the Blade member, Hunk couldn't help but notice how it stood, with its arms folded in front of its chest. That was... uh wow, that was totally classic Keith posture.

Maybe... maybe Keith's loss had gotten to him more than he'd thought. This guy was _Galra_ \- he didn't need to see their face to know that, all he had to do was look down and take stock of their tail, and like, the fact that they only had _four toes_. Sure, sure, they had similar names, and they even kind of _acted_ similar, but... well, Keith _wasn't_ Galra.

"So uh... how'd you end up joining the Blade?" Hunk asked. "Or is that like, something you can't remember either?"

Kethe's masked face turned towards him, and he could swear that he was scowling under it. "I was a prisoner. Ulaz freed me."

...and suddenly those issues from earlier were starting to make sense. Oh man. Did... did Kethe blame them for Ulaz's death?

"Freed you, huh?" Hunk asked. "You know, he freed Shiro too."

"So I've heard." Another curt reply- yep, this guy was _definitely_ holding a grudge against them. Aw man. How'd _he_ get stuck with the Galra with the grudge?

"So uh, I guess, I'm grateful to him?" Hunk said. "I mean, without Ulaz, none of us would be here right now, and Earth _probably_ would have been invaded by the Galra, so... yeah. He was a pretty cool guy, that Ulaz."

Kethe's tail seemed to flick in response to his words, but for the life of him, Hunk couldn't decide if that was a good flick or a bad flick. "Yeah," he spoke finally, "...he was."

Ah. Guilt seemed to surge in Hunk's chest at that. Ulaz had clearly meant something to him, no amount of voice distortion could hide that. It made sense- from the sound of it, Kethe owed like, his freedom to the guy. If he was holding his death against them, he... couldn't entirely blame him, to be honest.

If anything, it kind of helped to _humanize_ the guy.

Which, yeah, weird thing to say, since he was _Galra_ and all, but you know what? He stood by it.

"I- _we_ \- lost someone too, you know." Hunk began. "Well, not like, _lost_ lost. He's not dead. At least, we _hope_ he's not dead. But it's been like seven months since we last heard anything about him, so you know, you hold out the hope but you can't help but worry, and-"

Oh no he was babbling now. Nope, that was not good. "What I'm saying is... I understand, I think? At least a little. Ulaz seemed pretty important to you, and I'm sorry he had to make that choice for us. We should have done better. He shouldn't have had to save our butts like that."

There was a long pause at his words- and something in the air almost seemed to... _relax_? Was that the right word for it? Eh, it was close enough.

"He would have wanted his death to mean something." Kethe told him- but even through the distortion in the mask, Hunk could tell that something in it had softened. "As long as this plan works, and we can take down Zarkon, it will have."

"Also, Hunk?"

Oh wow, he'd used his name. That... felt kind of weird. Casual, like it wasn't the first time he's said it.

"Face."

"What?" Hunk blinked, color slowly draining from his own. " _Oh_."

* * *

Without the Galra haunting the halls of her ship, Allura found herself feeling vastly more at ease.

Alliance or no alliance, she was still ill at ease with the idea of bringing them into the Castle. One had been bad enough, but _three_? Two of the three hadn't even bothered to unmask, instead silently flanking their leader's side at all times, as if they were anticipating some kind of attack.

Kolivan, Antok, and _Kethe_.

Were she more petty, she would have almost thought that they were trying to rub the loss of one of their own in. Seven months had been enough time to grow used to his absence, but not nearly long enough to forget that he was once _here_.

There would be no amount of time long enough for that.

And now they had some Galra on their ship, carrying a name too similar to his own for her liking. The only reason she tolerated it at all was because she was forced to admit that they'd need them- this was a plan that would only work if everyone did their part, the Blade of Marmora included.

A plan that hinged on them being able to form Voltron.

They _could_ , she knew. They had done it many times since she'd stepped up to pilot the red lion in Keith's... in his absence. But though none of them ever so much as said it directly to her face, she knew what they all knew- that it wasn't what it once was.

What it was would have to be enough, Allura thought, grimly making her way down to the red lion's hangar. The red paladin's armor was gone now- taken alongside the one who wore it- but even if it hadn't been, she'd have never _dreamed_ of wearing it herself. Instead, she clad herself in pink, to honor the fallen- her father, her people.

Not Keith, she hoped. Please never let it be Keith.

Drawing in a long breath, Allura steadied herself. She didn't really need to take the red lion down to the Balmera- but the extra time to bond certainly would not hurt. She knew full well that she was only it's temporary pilot. It should chafe at her, but it did not- for as long as the red lion refused to fully accept her, it meant that there was a chance that Keith was still alive.

It would simply put up with her until then.

Or so she thought.

Instead she found herself faced with the red lion's particle barrier, blocking her path. Even when Keith had first been lost to them, it had never done this before- but now, no matter how she pleaded with it, telling it that now was the _worst_ time to shut her out, it would not lower it's barrier.

Frantic, she brought up the footage of the hangar, trying to decide when this development had happened. Fingers frozen over the controls, she felt her skin crawl, realizing that no sooner than had the trio of Galra entered the ship, the red lion's particle barrier had come to life.

 _Not you_ , it seemed to rumble, _him_.

* * *

"Well, that's an experience I never want to have to repeat ever again."

Slouching back in his seat now that they had gotten well and truly away from the Weblum, Hunk swore he could still feel it's stomach juices seeping into his suit. Which was silly, because they never had seeped into his suit in the first place, but like... he could feel it. He could!

And man, did it ever feel gross.

He didn't know how Kethe dealt with it, exposed tail and all. He hadn't missed the way he'd wrung it out, shaking off as much of the excess as he could, and fought the urge to offer him a towel. Were there even towels on the yellow lion? Maybe he should start stocking a few.

"Too bad about your Galra pal though." Hunk noted, sparing a glance to where Kethe was hovering behind him.

"They weren't my _pal_." Kethe seemed to hiss. "I never would have rescued them from that ship if I'd known who they were."

"Hey man, it's cool. I get it." Hunk said. "You saw someone in trouble, and you wanted to help them. That's like... _totally_ natural. Maybe more so in your case, what with the whole prisoner thing?"

Oh man, back to the silent treatment. Why did he have to go and bring up the prisoner thing? Shiro had been a prisoner of the Galra, and that was a touchy subject, even for him- so he really should have known better than to bring it up again.

"I- sorry." Hunk said. "Bad subject, right?"

Another long pause, not even the sound of Coran's informational video to fill the void of it. Which was cool, he got it- just because he'd apologized, didn't mean forgiveness would follow suit. Maybe this was just how it was going to be for the rest of the flight back, this pervasive awkward silence.

"You don't have to apologize."

And something in Hunk's chest _lurched_.

Because the vocal distortion was gone. And he knew.

He hadn't heard it in seven months, but he knew that voice. How could he forget? He kept playing over the last thing he'd said to them before he'd left the command center, over and over again in his head.

That was _Keith's voice_.

He'd wanted to whip his head around, to see with his own eyes the face that lurked behind him, mask banished- but he didn't get the chance.

Allura sent them a transmission, and faintly, Hunk could hear the mask go back up. She was in trouble, they needed to get back to the Castle at once.

Kethe- _Keith_ \- would have to wait.

* * *

He needed to go.

He could only just barely make out the sound of the yellow paladin's- _Hunk's_ \- voice, as if it came from a distant place.

He needed to go. It was calling to him.

He didn't think twice about leaving the yellow lion behind him, heading into open space. It was calling him, so he had to go to it- go towards that familiar presence, like a low rumble in the back of his mind.

It felt like home.

* * *

"That," Allura spoke, her voice stiff, "...is _not_ me."

"If that's not you, princess," Lance spoke, eyes fixed on the red lion, "...then who the hell is _that_?"

* * *

"It's Keith."

Shiro didn't look up when Hunk entered the room, nor when he spoke- his head was resting on his hands, elbows propped up on the table. For the span of a moment, he wondered if he hadn't heard him.

"I know."

Shiro's voice was weak, barely even above a whisper.

Pulling his head up, Shiro pushed forward what had been hidden in the shadow of his arms. A knife- not just any knife, Hunk knew, but _Keith's_ knife. The one Shiro told him that no one should touch.

For as long as he'd known him, the hilt had always been wrapped. Now, it's wrappings lay to the side, abandoned, forgotten. With nothing left to conceal it, the sigil on the handle leapt out at him- the same sigil that had decorated the hilt of Ulaz's blade.

The mark of the Blade of Marmora.

Hunk sat across from him, not knowing what else to say. He knew he had to tell Shiro- he sensed that he already suspected. When the battle with the robeast had ended, the others had wanted to thoroughly grill the Blade who had stolen the red lion out from under them. It was clear that none of them were happy about this development.

They thought it meant Keith was dead.

He knew it meant that he was _alive_.

Only Shiro had helped him get Kethe out of the hangar, something that Hunk had been very insistent on once he saw the ruined remains of the Blade's jet pack. Something close, _very close_ , had happened out there, with none of them around to see it, and all he had wanted to do was get him some time away to settle down.

He should be sleeping now- or well, Hunk hoped so.

"Why doesn't he," and wow, he'd never heard Shiro sound so _lost_ before, "...why doesn't he _say_ anything? Does he think that because he's," and he couldn't bring himself to finish forming the word, but Hunk knew- _Galra_ , he wanted to say, "-that we'd turn him away?"

That was the part of this whole thing that Hunk was having the most trouble processing. He'd left them as a human, and had returned to them as a Galra. The sigil on his knife just threw a whole new wrench into things.

"Shiro, I don't think... I don't think _he_ knows he's Keith." Hunk told him, wincing at the pained expression that came over the black paladin's face. "I mean... you felt that, right?"

He didn't have to specify. Shiro knew what he meant. They had _all_ felt it when they'd, against all odds, formed Voltron. They'd reached out, every last one of them, seeking answers-

-only to find a void.

If there had been anything in there, none of them knew. They'd all jerked back, away from Kethe's mindscape, as if they were trying to protect their own.

"Have you seen his...?" Shiro began, trailing off, unable to finish the question.

His face, Hunk sensed he wanted to ask. "No. But his voice... it's definitely Keith's."

"He has a _tail_." It was a stupid statement, and they both knew it.

"Yeah, yeah he does. Misplaced like, two of his toes, too." Hunk said. "That's... that's going to take some getting used to."

"How did this even happen?" Shiro asked. "The Blade of Marmora only accepts Galra to their ranks, so if Keith's with them, then he has to _be_ Galra. But he's- Keith's _human_."

Gaze dropping to the knife on the table, it's glowing sigil telling a different story, Shiro narrowed his eyes. "I _thought_ he was human."

"Maybe... maybe Keith thought that too?" Hunk offered.

"Maybe." Shiro said. "Maybe we'll never know for sure now."

"And I mean... it's not _that_ bad, is it?" Hunk ventured. "I mean, sure, Keith's Galra now, that'll take some getting used to- but he's still _alive_ , right? He's still Keith."

"Yeah, but he doesn't _know_ that." Shiro stressed. "You felt what I felt, Hunk- whatever happened to him, it's more than just memory loss. It's like... it's like they're just _gone_."

 _Is he still even Keith_ , was the silent, unspoken question.

"He exited the yellow lion in the middle of a firefight with a robeast with nothing but a jet pack." Hunk deadpanned. "Which sounds like a pretty Keith move to me."

"...that's a fair point." Shiro admitted. "So... he's Keith, I guess."

"Just purple." Hunk nodded. "And kind of fuzzy? I mean, his tail's fuzzy, so I guess the rest of him is fuzzy too?"

Unexpectedly, Shiro smiled. "Could be."

"Do we... do we tell him?" Hunk asked. "And the others. What do we tell the others? They really didn't seem hot on the whole Galra thing, but maybe if they knew it was actually _Keith_..."

"I mean, we're going to kind of have to." Shiro told him. "We both pieced it together, so everyone else is bound to eventually."

"And Keith?" Hunk asked.

"Keith..." Shiro trailed off, his gaze falling back on the knife, "...Keith deserves to know."

* * *

Midnight snack.

All he'd wanted was a midnight snack.

What he _hadn't_ wanted was to be confronted with two glowing golden eyes, leading to him to scream for the lights like he was a little girl.

And listen. It wasn't like he'd forgotten that they had a Galra on board. He totally remembered! He'd jacked Keith's lion, so he wasn't about to forget the guy anytime soon. He just didn't expect to find him in the _kitchen_ of all places, that's all!

(How did he even know where the kitchen _was_?)

"Wow, scream louder next time," The Blade had clearly not expected anyone, because his hood was down, yes, but so was his _mask_. "...there still might be someone who didn't hear you."

That voice. That _tone_.

Lance froze. What else could he do? He'd come to the kitchen for a midnight snack, not to come face to face with a _ghost_.

Suddenly he understood why forming Voltron had come so easily to them.

Ke _ith_. Ke _the_. He'd thought it was some kind of sick cosmic joke that was being played on them all, but no. Because as alien as the solid golden eyes were, as out of place as the lavender fur was, as strange as the elongated, pointed ears were, he knew that face.

The way his hair fell in front of his eyes, that stupid cowlick, the set of his jaw- these were all things that Lance knew. The shape of the nose, the shape of the mouth... Christ, no wonder he knew where the kitchen was, this was fucking-

" _Keith!?_ "

Keith- _Kethe_ \- stared at him flatly. "That's not how you pronounce my name."

"But you're-!" Lance sputtered, racking his brain, trying to process all of this. It wasn't just his face, wasn't just his voice- it was that expression too. How many times had he been on the receiving end of it? The distortion provided by the lack of pupils was not nearly enough to camouflage it as belonging to anyone other than Keith.

" _You're_ -!" Lance began again, this time jabbing out his finger as if he were making an accusation, watching as the Galra's expression switched to one of marked confusion- an expression which also mirrored one he knew from Keith.

What the hell was this? There was... there was no way this _wasn't_ Keith, but even if he put aside the weird Galra thing- and something in his brain clicked back to the Balmera, to the hangar doors- it was like he didn't even _recognize_ him! What the... had the Blade of Marmora brainwashed him or something? Or-

The void. That horrifying empty void that had been his mind space.

"I'm...?" The Galra with Keith's face asked, still looking thoroughly perplexed. "I'm what?"

 _You're Keith_ , he wanted to say. _Keith Kogane, perpetual pain my ass_ , he wanted to say.

 _You're home_ , he wanted to say. _You came back to us_ , he wanted to say.

 _How dare you get fucking taller than me_ , he wanted to say.

Instead what came out was- "...you're having a midnight snack?"

* * *

"Lance, it's like, two in the morning, what are you-?"

"It's Keith."

"Keith." Pidge repeated, rubbing at her eyes. She didn't know what Lance was going on about, but it was way too damn early for this. " _What's_ Keith?"

"Kethe is Keith." Lance stated.

"Kethe is... Lance, he's _Galra_." She told him, wondering how he'd somehow forgotten that painfully obvious fact.

"I know!" Throwing up his hands, Lance invited himself into her room, plopping down on her bed. "Trust me, Pidge, I know how crazy that sounds. But listen- he's Keith. I swear it on my life, he's Keith."

Yup, definitely too early for this.

"Okay, so let's imagine for a moment that he's Keith." Pidge said, heaving a sigh. She wanted nothing more than to chase Lance out of her room and go back to bed, but it looked like that wasn't happening right now. "Why hasn't he said anything to us?"

"You remember when we formed Voltron with him?" Lance asked.

"That was like five hours ago, I'm not going to forget it that fast." Pidge told him. "What about it?"

"You looked into his head too, right?" Lance asked, leveling his gaze with hers.

She had. She was just trying to forget about the experience.

"There was like, nothing there." Lance told her. "I think... I think that's where his memories are supposed to be."

"So Keith hasn't said anything because he what, doesn't remember being Keith?" Pidge asked, arching a brow. "There's still the little problem about him being _Galra_ , Lance."

Lance winced. "There's... a _small_ chance that Keith might have been Galra, Pidge."

Okay, yeah, it was definitely way too early for this. "Why would Keith be Galra?"

"Remember the Balmera?" Lance asked. "How Allura told me and Keith to go seal the hangar with all the fighters shut?"

Giving him a curt nod of her head, Pidge frowned, wondering where he was going with this.

"And you know how Galra tech is like, genetically encoded or something?" Lance asked.

Again, she nodded her head.

"Keith used it." Lance told her.

"He-" Pidge began, opening and shutting her mouth. "He used it."

"He used it!" Lance repeated. "Just slapped his hand on the big ol hand print, and _boom_! Hangar doors are shut!"

That... she hated to admit it, but if that was true, then Lance had a point. But... what would that even mean, if it were true? If Keith were Galra, what did that make him? Did he _know_? Had he been some kind of spy? A sleeper agent?

Had he been working for Zarkon the whole time?

"Whoa, I can see where your brain is going there Pidge, but let's just reel back into the fact that we found him with the _Blade of Marmora_." Lance pointed out. "So like, I'm not sure how the whole _Keith has been a Galra the whole time_ thing works out, but I'm _pretty sure_ he's not some kind of super secret spy for the empire."

Right. He had a point there.

"So. Kethe." Pidge stated, drawing back to the main topic at hand. "You think he's actually Keith?"

"Oh, I don't think." Lance told her. "I _know_."

"You know." Pidge repeated, biting back a comment about how yeah, she was pretty sure Lance _didn't_ think.

"Listen, the stupid mullet might have evolved into a stupid braid, but I'd know Keith's disgusting pretty boy face anywhere." Lance told her. "Even if it _is_ covered in purple fuzz now."

"Wha- you saw his face?" Pidge blinked, now very much awake.

"Yup." Lance told her. "So... yeah. Kethe and Keith. Same person."

Why the hell had he not started out with that? "You're sure?"

"I have never been more sure of anything in my life, Pidge." Lance said. "Other than that Meatloaf Monday was a bad idea, and should never be spoken of again."

"But that's-" She began, before quickly shutting her mouth, trying to process this new information. Half of her wanted to ask if Lance had seen right- if Keith had just been missing for so long that they had all started to see his shadow in places.

And maybe she would have- if they hadn't formed Voltron. She'd seen how the red lion had flown, seen the ease with which the one behind its controls piloted it, that skill that could not be so easily replicated. Who could that be, other than Keith?

Kethe was Keith. Keith was Galra.

Keith was... Keith was _alive_.

"We have to tell Shiro." Pidge said. "And Hunk."

"What about Allura?" Lance asked.

Pursing her lips, Pidge recalled the venom that had been in Allura's voice. If... if Keith was Galra, if this was how he had come back to them, then she thought that she might be able to accept it. The Galra had taken her family from her, and she would never forgive them for that- but that wasn't Keith.

She knew that.

But _Allura_?

"...Shiro and Hunk first."

* * *

"It's Keith."

Four voices at once, four identical blinks.

"Well," it was Shiro who spoke, breaking the silence, "...glad we're all on the same page."


	3. keith side

And at last, here it is, Keith's side, and the final part of the story! Thanks for sticking with me throughout these three chapters! There's a chance I might come back to play with this verse in the future- perhaps through some oneshots here and there, but I won't make any promises at the current moment. There's still the story that this idea diverged from that's in planning, so that'll be a thing to look forward to, whenever I do decide to tackle writing that. But for now, that's a wrap, folks!

* * *

 **abyss of memory**

 **keith side**

* * *

Realistically, he knew that he _probably_ shouldn't be wandering around the castle-ship.

But he _probably_ shouldn't have eaten their food either, and the blue paladin- _Lance_ \- hadn't seemed to have a problem with that.

...or well, he thought he didn't. That whole encounter had been downright bizarre, from start to finish. Sure, he guess he could understand why he'd been surprised- the kitchen was probably not where one expected to find your unwanted guest in the middle of the night.

But look- he hadn't eaten anything since he'd left the base. He'd been _starving_. And food was something that they seemed to have no shortage of on this castle-ship.

He still didn't fully understand quite how he had found his way to the kitchen. It was like some deeper part of him knew the path, which made next to no sense to him. He'd never been here before- or at least, he was pretty sure he hadn't. _He_ might not remember it, but he was pretty sure that its crew would, had he been.

It was a mistake for him to have let the blue paladin see his face, one which he'd already corrected, bringing his mask back up. Still, that... hadn't been the reaction he'd expected. If he didn't know any better, it was almost like he'd seen a ghost.

(What the hell even _was_ a ghost?)

But the blue paladin's reaction to his face (and really, the blue paladin in _general_ , if he was going to be honest) wasn't the only thing that didn't make sense around here. He'd expected the Altean castle-ship to be more imposing, to feel unwelcoming to him- after all, he was Galra, the race that had wiped out the people who had once built it.

Yet he didn't find himself feeling ill at ease in the least. It was... _familiar_ , almost, in a way that he couldn't put his finger on.

And it wasn't just the castle-ship that felt that way.

He should have been terrified when the red lion had been poised to swallow him whole, and yet all he'd felt was a sense that he'd done this before. Being inside of it... it was like a part of him had been missing this whole time, and only now, was he finally complete. The low rumble in the back of his mind, the feeling of sitting in that cockpit... it was like coming home.

 _Paladin_ , it seemed to say to him, _home_.

And he'd formed _Voltron_ with them. _Him_! A total nobody!

It had been... it had been so familiar, like he'd done it countless times before.

Which _definitely_ didn't make any sense.

Even when he accounted for the fact that the red lion's paladin really _had_ gone missing, just like the rumors had said, there was no way it could have been _him_. The red paladin was human, just like the rest of them, but he was Galra.

Princess Allura had made her objections to working with them very clear. She didn't seem to want them on her _ship_ , much less allow one in the lions. She'd been _furious_ when he'd come out of the red lion, and she hadn't been alone- the green and blue paladins had been just as angry with him, as if he'd _asked_ the red lion to come to him.

He didn't have to ask to guess why- what the yellow paladin- _Hunk_ \- had told him back on the way to the Weblum was enough. _We've lost someone too_ , he'd said- and then he'd hurried to ramble on about how they weren't dead- or at least, he hoped they weren't. He must have meant the original red paladin.

And for the red lion to suddenly accept him as its paladin... did that mean they were dead? Was this the one thing that they had been dreading, all this time? Was he now a herald of loss, of a message that they had all been desperately hoping not to hear?

He could understand why they had been so angry, so unwilling to accept him. He didn't blame them in the least- if anything, it was the reactions of the yellow and black paladins that didn't make any sense to him. They'd... _protected_ him, almost. Shielded him from the bulk of their anger and rage, and instead had guided him from the hangar, under claims that he needed to rest.

(He'd said that he didn't, but the moment his head touched the pillow, he'd been lights out.)

If the red lion had truly accepted him as its paladin... well, he didn't know _what_ to make of that. And at such a critical time too- the success of Kolivan's plan depended on them being able to form Voltron.

What did it even see in a Galra with virtually no memories, anyways?

"What," a cold voice drew his thoughts back into focus, and Kethe turned on his heel, dimly aware that he had wandered into the residential wing of the Castle, "...are _you_ doing here?"

The princess, stiff as a board and full of cold fury.

Narrowing his eyes underneath his mask, Kethe straightened his back, meeting her gaze. Just because he understood where she was coming from, didn't mean he had to just sit here and take it.

"Do you have some kind of problem with me, princess?" He asked.

"Yes." The admission was so frank, that he had to applaud her for being so honest about it. "First you steal the red lion from us, and now you are standing in front of the one place on this ship you have no business being anywhere near."

"I didn't _steal_ anything." Kethe hissed, the fur on his tail bristling. "The red lion called to me. I didn't ask it to."

And what did she even mean, the one place he had no business being anywhere near? It wasn't like he was on the bridge, or in the engine room- he was in the _residential area_ , for crying out loud. There was nothing here that his presence could _possibly_ compromise.

"So that may be," Allura told him, her eyes narrowing, "...but that still gives you no business being here."

"And where is _here_ exactly, princess?" Kethe asked, folding his arms in front of his chest, his tail swishing angrily behind him.

"The red paladin's room." She told him. "The _real_ one."

Something in him froze at those words, turning his head to glance behind him. This was the... suddenly, everything made sense to him. No wonder she seemed so furious. Not only had he gone and taken their lion, but now he found himself standing outside of their room.

"I didn't-" Kethe began, almost seeming to deflate. "I didn't know."

"Yes, well now you do." Allura said. "And you _still_ did not answer my question. What are you even _doing_ here? We were generous enough to provide you with a room of your own, but I do _not_ recall allowing you to wander the ship. Once we get to Olkarion, I fully expect you to return to your own people."

"I don't-" Kethe began again, before stopping himself. "Look, I know you've got a problem with the Galra, and I get it. I've heard what they- what _we_ \- did to your people. But I've got _nothing_ to do with that."

"You cannot just-" Allura began.

"That was _ten thousand years_ ago, princess." Kethe hissed. "I barely even remember what I was doing _five months_ ago, so the concept of a single year is basically as far away from me as it can get- nevermind _ten thousand_ of them. So you can take your anger out on us all you want, but you can't fucking blame _me_ like I personally have something to do with it."

That seemed to cause Allura to draw back, her brows knitting together. "What do you _mean_ , you cannot remember what you were doing five months ago?"

His tail twitching, Kethe jerked his head away from her. "Why should I tell you?"

"Because this is _my_ ship." Allura pointed out. "And you are a guest."

"Pretty sure you're supposed to treat guests better, princess." Kethe remarked.

"Not if they're Galra." She shot back.

"Look, I just-!"

"Princess?" Jerking his head, Kethe turned to face the newcomer. Or newcomers, he noted- for all of the paladins had seemed to gather together.

Did anyone on this ship even sleep?

It was the black paladin who spoke, and for a brief moment, something flashed across his face as his gaze leveled with that of his own. Confusion, he recognized- and maybe a bit of hope? What the hell was _that_?

"Kethe?" The black paladin- _Shiro_ \- said his name, and there was... something about the tone in which he said it that made something in his heart lurch.

His gaze drops downwards, catching on something in the black paladin's hand. It's a knife, he realizes, but not just any knife. Though the sigil is partially hidden by virtue of how it's being held, he knows it at once- and even though he _knows_ his knife is where it should be, he still finds himself reaching back to check for it.

It's there.

"You." Jerking his gaze upwards, he narrows his eyes beneath his mask. "Why do you have that?"

It's one of their knives- a Marmoran blade. Kolivan would not just give one out to anyone- it was a symbol of their order. Only those who had passed their trials were allowed to wield one. So how was it that this human possessed one?

The question seemed to make Shiro flinch, but it wasn't with guilt, Kethe thought. Instead, he held up the knife, properly displaying it before him.

He thought he heard Allura's breath hitch in her throat. "Isn't that-?"

"Yes." Shiro told her, his gaze only briefly flickering away from him, and over towards her. "It's Keith's."

 _Keith_.

For a split second, Kethe thought they'd mispronounced his name again. But no, he still possessed his own blade, so that would make no sense. Not him, then, but someone else.

Or... his gaze flickered over towards the blue paladin, concealed beneath his mask. He'd... called him _Keith_ , hadn't he? At the time, he'd thought he'd just said his name wrong, but what if that had been exactly what he'd meant to say? But why would...?

"But how can that be?" Allura asked.

"I don't know." Shiro admitted, shaking his head. "I don't think asking him would do any good now either."

"Ask him?" Allura asked. "But how could we? Keith is-"

And all at once, her gaze turned, fixing itself upon him. It wasn't just her, either- they were _all_ looking at him. It was enough to make his fur stand on end, an uneasy feeling crawling down his spine.

"Kethe." There it was, his name, in that same hauntingly familiar tone. "Can you lower your mask?"

He had no reason to. Anonymity was important to the Blade of Marmora. He'd already made a mistake with the blue paladin, so there was no reason for him to-.

But he did.

"No." It was Allura who spoke, breaking the strange hush that fell over them. "This cannot be. _You_ cannot be."

"He is." Shiro told her. "This isn't ideal, but we _have_ to accept this, Allura."

What? What was it they all saw in his face? Casting a glance around the hall, Kethe knew that his own expression was one of puzzlement. It felt as if there was something they all understood, and he was the only one left in the dark.

"This," Shiro spoke again, taking a step forward, "...is yours."

The knife. He was offering him the knife.

"I-" Kethe began, his expression faltering. "I don't understand. I _have_ my knife."

The smile on Shiro's face was a rueful one. "Before you had that one, you had this one."

Searching his expression for some kind of answer, any kind of answer that would make sense, he nevertheless found himself reaching out, taking the knife. Holding the blade in his hands, he was struck at once by how _familiar_ it felt to him. It was a thought that made very little sense- of course it did, he had one of his own, and all were made the same.

But this...

This was different.

He _knew_ this knife. One clawed hand wrapping around the hilt, he carefully traced it's blade with his other. Just as his instincts had once told him that he was wrong, so too, did they now tell him that this was _right_.

"You." He said. "You _know_ me."

And underneath his gaze, the black paladin almost seemed to falter- before he drew in his breath, forcing whatever unbidden emotion had risen up in him back. "I do. We _all_ do."

"I'm-" Furrowing his brow, he swallowed. "Who am I?"

"Your name," Shiro began, "...is Keith Kogane."

His head began to swim, blurring his thoughts together.

"You're the red paladin."

Ah. Dimly, he could make out the scent of panic, only vaguely aware that he was staggering on his feet. So he really was all wrong.

* * *

He didn't know what he'd expected, honestly.

Alright, so that was a lie. He'd expected- _hoped_ \- that when he came to next, he would do so with his memories perfectly intact.

No such luck, it would seem. Nothing was that simple, not when it came to the _witch_. Instead, all he woke with was a keen awareness of how very much his own body was wrong- much the same as he had all those months ago, when he'd first woken with nothing, only far less frantic.

Staring down at his hands, he studied them anew. Even if he couldn't see them underneath his armor, he knew what they looked like- covered in a thin layer of lavender fur, tapering off in claws. He couldn't imagine them any differently.

But they _were_ supposed to be different, he realized now.

The red paladin of Voltron, the one who had gone missing, had been human- he knew that much. _He_ was supposed to be human. It was... a lot to take in, if he had to be honest.

He had utterly no idea as to what he was actually supposed to look like. His appearance must not have changed _completely_ \- not if they could still recognize his face. He could only base his judgements off of the paladins- the humans. Unlike the Galra, they had no claws to speak of, only blunt, rounded nails. He wondered what shade his skin had been, which of the rainbow of earth tones he'd fallen under.

He could ask, he thought. But somehow, he didn't think he was quite ready for that yet.

He knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he was wrong now- but he didn't think he was prepared to know by just _how much_. He wasn't ready to face himself- or... who he'd been, he supposed.

Keith Kogane.

He wished so badly that the name would ring bells with him. But while there was a vague sense of familiarity to it, he could not, with any surety, say that it was his name. _Kethe_ still felt vastly more familiar to him- and why wouldn't it? It was the only name that he had known for months, and those months were all he had.

Clenching and unclenching his fists, feeling his claws press into his hands, he drew in a long breath. He'd found the answers he was looking for, only to be presented with new questions. If he had been human, how was it that he'd become this way? Did the Galra Empire really possess the knowledge to turn anyone they wished into one of them?

But the blade. Keith Kogane- _he_ \- possessed a Marmoran blade.

So then... was he Galra before this? If that was the case, why had nobody noticed? From what little he could gather, they'd reacted to him being Galra as if it were as huge a shock as his memory loss- so they obviously hadn't known about it.

Had... had Keith- had _he_ \- known about it?

Thinking about it obviously wasn't doing him any good. Even if he tried to question himself, he didn't have the necessary memories to provide him with answers.

Instead he set himself to gauging his surroundings. For a split second, he thought he'd been taken back to the guest room that he had been given- it was so barren, that it was an easy mistake to make.

It had been the hint of red that caught his eye that told him otherwise. Drawing his attention towards it, his gaze fell on a red and white jacket, hanging off a hook from the wall. Sweeping his gaze over the rest of the room, he realized that barren though it was, that someone had lived here at one point.

 _He'd_ lived here. This was _his_ room.

Getting to his feet, he paused, glancing down at them, watching his toes curl with a slight frown. The blue paladin had been barefoot when he'd come across him in the kitchen, and he'd counted five toes on each of his feet, none of them the same size. He'd only four- and all of them were roughly the same size, tapering off in claws, much like his hands.

No wonder his balance had been shot, he thought to himself. It wasn't just the matter of his tail, it had been a matter of his _feet_ as well.

Ugh. He could wrap his head around the idea of having once not had a tail- that he'd been well aware of for the longest time- but five toes?

Maybe he hadn't been a Galra before- or at least, hadn't _looked_ like one- but now, being a Galra was literally all that he knew. Perhaps it was just the lack of visuals to go off of, but the idea of having once been one of the Earthlings- the _humans_ \- was so foreign to him, that he didn't know what to do with it.

He'd half been worried that this knowledge would mean his balance would be shot all over again- but thankfully, that didn't seem to be the case. Over the past few months, he'd become at home in his own skin, the feeling of wrongness fading away almost as if it had never been there. It had spiked like never before last night- and though he now knew it for a fact, he didn't _feel_ it quite in the same way he had in the past.

Reaching out, Kethe touched the fabric of the jacket, frowning to himself. This was... Keith's, he guessed. Which... made it his own?

Honestly, he was still trying to wrap his head around the idea. He'd been told he was Keith Kogane, red paladin of Voltron, but he still felt like _Kethe_ \- newly inducted member of the Blade of Marmora.

Of course he did! He didn't know who Keith Kogane even was! Didn't remember the first goddamn thing about him!

But maybe... maybe he could learn.

The way the yellow paladin had spoken about his loss... it had impacted them greatly, he knew. For seven long months, they had gone without any word as to his fate- and now, when they had all started to fear that he was dead, he'd come back to them.

Come back wearing the face of the enemy.

* * *

If she had not braced herself, she would have surely flinched.

How could she not? Those were the eyes of the enemy, set in a face that was otherwise all too familiar to her. Gone were the red paladin's once nearly purple eyes, a feature that had once been so striking, replaced with nothing but one solid shade of yellow, that consumed the entirety of them. That she could still read his shock in them felt of little consequence.

If she was going to be perfectly honest, this... this _Galra_ , who wore the face of her friend- he made her skin crawl.

She knew that the others must be right- that this Galra _had_ to be Keith. The red lion had locked her out not because it had found a replacement for her, for _him_ \- but because the one it had chosen first had returned to it. It had sensed what none of them had begun to suspect yet- that its paladin was alive, and was once again, walking the halls of the castle-ship.

She wasn't so blind that she couldn't see it. It was there, in his features, those that remained untouched by... by whatever horrid thing had been done to him. In his voice, the one part of him that was just as she remembered it, almost hauntingly so.

But the worst part of it all were his memories- or lack of them. Amnesia, Hunk had told her- and it was a concept that needed to be explained to her, for losing ones memories was not something that could happen, not to an Altean.

She'd spoken to Kolivan in anger, in fury, once they had returned to Olkarion. He must have known, she thought, who he had brought with him, otherwise he never would have chosen one so fresh from his order's own trials to join them. When he confirmed that he had suspected it, she felt her blood boil- he'd known, and yet he _dared_ to think he could keep the truth from them?

When the heat of her anger cooled, she came to understand that had not been his intent. It was merely theory- and bringing Kethe- _Keith_ \- to the castle-ship had been a means to test it. He likely hadn't expected for things to unfold the way that they had.

But what he had told her... that was what _truly_ frightened her.

Zarkon's witch had done this to him. Had twisted his flesh and bone, had robbed him of everything that he had, until he had nothing left to give. If Ulaz had not come for him when he had... then perhaps Keith would truly be lost to them.

Turned against them, perhaps. Would the red lion still go to him then, even when his mind had been so thoroughly violated? They had learned that Zarkon's bond with the black lion still thrived, so it was hauntingly possible.

Perhaps, she thought, if the witch were killed, then Keith's memories might be able to return to him, her magic broken. She'd no proof of this, of course- so she kept her theory to herself.

"Keith," and she had to force herself to address him as such, some part of her still entirely unwilling to accept this, "...I would like you to come with me."

The Galra- Keith, it's _Keith_ , she had to tell herself- merely stared at her. He surely had not been expecting to be ambushed outside of his own quarters. "Have we arrived on Olkarion?"

"Yes." She told him frankly. "Some hours ago. The others thought it best you be left to rest."

She had not objected. She had seen how they'd reacted when he'd crumpled to the floor before them, his knife- the _Marmoran_ knife- clattering to the ground beside him. He carried it now, sheathed behind his back as it had always been, his other- the newer one, now hanging from his waist.

If this was all just a matter of one of her paladins having been forcibly transformed into a Galra, then this would have been much simpler. She would have been horrified- of course she would have, she couldn't _imagine_ the pain such a process would bring- but she would have been able to accept it, with just a bit of time. Now, however, there was the question of Keith's heritage hanging over them all, and the one person who might be able to answer said questions no longer knew them.

If he ever had.

She, for her own sake, had decided to think that he had not. It was the only way that she could swallow the idea of a Galra having piloted the red lion- her _father's_ lion.

"Are you taking me back to Kolivan?"

The question made her jolt- she'd half forgotten she'd told him she would be returning him to his own people. Her own words twisted like a knife in her gut, having been so unaware that she had been trying to chase away the one person that they had spent seven months- _half a year_ \- searching for so desperately.

"No." Allura said simply. "Not yet, at any rate. I would like for Coran to have a chance to examine you."

He seemed to flinch at that- he hid it well, but his tail- he had a _tail_ , now- betrayed him. "If it's an examination, I've already been looked over by-"

"I know." She cut him off, her tone far more curt than she wished. "But I must see it for myself."

He grew silent at that, but she could feel those eyes searching her face. He must have found something, because he came to a halt, and she had to force away the cold that gripped her at the idea of having shown a Galra her unprotected back.

"If it's easier, I can leave." He said. "I don't... I don't remember _any_ of what you want me to remember, but I know enough to know that none of you wanted-" and she turned just at the right time, to see how his mouth worked, as if trying to puzzle out how to speak about himself, "-me to come back looking like this."

"I can return to the Blade of Marmora, if that's... if that would be better, for everyone."

And there was... _something_ in that tone, something in that face, that for a moment, all she could see was how lost and _vulnerable_ this Galra was. It was a light in which she'd never seen Keith in- and for the span of a moment, she found herself forgetting again, that this was him.

Instead, she thought of _Kethe_. Kethe, who had woken in a cell, held captive by his own people, who knew nothing, not even of himself. Kethe, who had carved out a small world for himself in spite of all of that, only to have it, and everything that he thought he knew, turned upside down on him- and the answers he so sought only bringing with them more questions.

Shiro had been right- this _wasn't_ ideal.

Not for any of them, but _especially_ not for Keith.

She would be lying if she said that she was ready to accept this- to accept Keith, as he was now. To accept the possibility that the witch had merely brought forth to the surface what had always been there, that Keith had _always_ been Galra, even when he looked nothing like it.

But they _needed_ Voltron. And Keith, for good or for ill, seemed to truly be the red lion's paladin. They needed him- the universe needed him.

And she was a princess. She had been trained in the art of diplomacy. Which meant sometimes burying her own feelings for the sake of others. Perhaps, in time, she too, would be able to accept all of this- but until then, she would endeavor to try.

Because worn on a Galra's face or not, she _never_ wanted to see Keith looking that lost ever again.

"I cannot deny that. I do not know if I will honestly _ever_ be able to stand the sight of you like this." She told him, frank and honest, for she knew he'd see through anything else. "But you _are_ the red paladin- the red lion's own actions have made that much clear. I do not think it will accept me as its paladin again, now that it knows you are alive."

"We need you- the _universe_ needs you. So please," Allura told him, "...stay."

Keith's brow furrowed, once more searching her features- before he finally, slowly, nodded his head.

"Okay."

* * *

She had a chance to kill the witch herself.

She hadn't been able to take it.

(She'd been _Altean_.)

* * *

It took him a week to join them in the lounge.

It wasn't entirely his own idea, either. It had been the yellow paladin who pressed him into it- something about wanting the others to see him in his clothes.

He'd been the one to bring up the issue in the first place- asking him out of the blue one day why it was that he never seemed to wear anything other than his Marmoran armor. He still hadn't dared to ask for any photographs of himself, from well... _before_ , but if there was one thing that he quickly learned, it was that he used to be shorter.

That wasn't the only issue, but it was enough to prevent the clothes that had been left behind in his bedroom from fitting. The yellow paladin had taken it upon himself to correct the issue, and had vanished with the lot of them, only to resurface three days later, beaming ear to ear.

"Meet us in the lounge." he'd told him, a twinkle in his eye.

Glancing down at his hands, Kethe frowned to himself, studying his hands once more. Unlike with his armor, the fingerless gloves allowed him to see his clawed hands. The way his braid fell against the high collar of the jacket was a bit awkward- he didn't have to guess to know it had gotten longer.

Coran had told him that he still had a small trace of human in him- which he suspected was his hair. There were other Blades who had hair, but the texture of his was different, and it simply grew too fast, for it to be a Galra trait. Seven months of growth had added up over time, and he'd never really felt the urge to cut it, so he'd just taken to braiding it instead.

(He _definitely_ wasn't trying to mimic Kolivan. He'd die before he admitted that.)

But all in all... he didn't feel out of place, wearing this. He couldn't say that it felt all that familiar- but that was likely just from the way his fur rubbed against the fabric.

His ears twitching, he could make out the voices of the other paladins from inside of the lounge. Clenching and unclenching his fists, Kethe drew in a breath, steadying his nerves.

"Keith!" Hunk noticed him first- of course he had, he'd placed himself on the couch that directly faced the entrance. "You came!"

"...you told me to?" Kethe asked, tail giving a twitch of confusion.

"I gotta say-" Lance began, a grin on his face that Kethe had quickly come to associate with him prepping himself for saying something particularly annoying. "-you look _way_ more like yourself in that fashion disaster of an outfit."

Letting out a snarl of displeasure, the fur on Kethe's tail bristled with annoyance. He kind of liked these clothes, of course he'd take offense at that!

"Wow, I thought he snarled well _before_." Pidge remarked, arching a brow. "Guess in hindsight, we maybe should have seen the whole half Galra thing coming, huh?"

"Pidge." Shiro spoke up, turning his gaze briefly over towards her, before he fixed it back on Keith. "Keith, don't snarl at Lance. Lance, maybe don't purposefully antagonize Keith? We're all trying to get used to each other again, we should try to be a little more considerate."

"But purposefully antagonizing Keith is like, what he does." Pidge pointed out.

"She's kind of got a point there." Hunk admitted.

"Maybe he should try doing something else." Kethe muttered, folding his arms in front of his chest. Pausing, he couldn't help but notice that no sooner than he had, all gazes in the room had fallen squarely upon him.

Furrowing his brow, Kethe stared blankly at them. "...what?"

The four paladins simply shared a knowing look between them, heedless of the annoyed twitch of his tail. Seriously, _what_?

* * *

He found him on the training deck.

Of course he did. Some things never changed.

Keith noticed him first, before he had a chance to call out to him. He'd been in the middle of a session, and he hadn't wanted to interrupt. Turning his gaze towards him, he ended the training session. "Diplomatic meeting over?"

"Just about." Shiro told him. "Allura and Coran are wrapping things up right now. But from the sound of it, it looks like they're willing to help." Gaze dropping down, he took note of the weapon in his hand. "Trying to get used to the bayard again?"

Glancing down at the white and red sword in his hand, Keith gave him a curt nod, returning it to it's resting form. The shape of the blade was different from how he remembered it- just a subtle reminder that as much as some things were the same, there were things that were different, too.

Some were just more obvious than others.

It had been three weeks- nearly four, by now. Enough time for them to slowly grow used to Keith's altered appearance, though he knew that Allura still found herself caught in a struggle with it. The alliance with the Blade of Marmora had helped in that regard, but the deep root of hatred that was buried in her was not something that would be so easily cleared away.

He wondered how long it had taken Keith- it was hard to think of it now, when it seemed like such a natural part of him, but from what he had heard, he'd had quite the struggle in coming to grips with the reality of his tail. In a way, he thought he could sympathize- sometimes he still woke, expecting both of his arms to be flesh and blood.

"The feel of it is different." Keith supplied.

 _From what I'm used to_ , Shiro sensed he didn't say.

That Keith was grappling with his own identity, he knew full well. If he asked them questions about the past, it was _always_ in relation to Voltron, never about himself. It almost seemed like he was purposefully avoiding doing so, as if he was afraid of what he might find.

He wasn't avoiding them, not necessarily- after his first appearance in the lounge, he had begun to seek them out, at his own pace. It was clear that as apprehensive as he was to learn about himself, he still wanted to learn about _them_. It was strange to think that while they knew him, to Keith, they were all perfect strangers.

It stung. Being forgotten... even if it hadn't been by Keith's own will, it stung more than Shiro would like to admit. He'd known Keith since the boy was in middle school, he was like a younger brother to him- and now that younger brother didn't remember him at all. The reality that his memories might be gone for good was starting to settle in, and sometimes he still caught himself wondering if the Galra wearing his face really _was_ Keith.

But then he would do something that was so utterly, unmistakably Keith, and he'd forget he was ever worried.

"You'll get used to it." Shiro reassured him. "Coran says that the new red paladin armor should be finished any day now."

Keith's nose scrunched at that, and though he hadn't quite picked up the trick of reading his eyes, it didn't really matter. Keith had always been expressive, and with the addition of his new appendage, he was now even _more_ so. According to Kolivan, most tailed Galra did not typically express so much emotion through them- but Keith had yet to pick up the trick of it.

"It looks so _clunky_." The admission was so frank, that Shiro couldn't do anything but laugh.

"Yeah, I guess compared to what you're more used to, it would seem a little clunky." Shiro told him. Marmoran armor was sleek- a marvel, really. "You'll get the hang of it, don't worry."

"Mm." Keith tilted his head, his tail faintly swishing behind him. "Are the delegates gone yet?"

"They're still in the reception area." Shiro told him. "Hunk's entertaining them with pizza rolls."

A faint flick of his tail, a furrow of his brow- that subtle signal that Keith did not know what that was. "I'm sure he saved a few for you in the kitchen if you're curious."

"I'll go when the delegates are gone." Keith told him.

Shiro didn't mean to, but he couldn't help but flinch at those words. If anyone outside of Voltron knew that there was a Galra aboard the ship, they only knew him as their liaison to the Blade of Marmora- and Keith was that, it was true. He was _still_ a member of their order, and was still sometimes called away by Kolivan- but never when it would conflict with his primary duty as a paladin of Voltron.

The fact that the red paladin was Galra was something they were still keeping under wraps. Shiro had wanted to be up front and honest about it- at least, at first. But the more the Blade of Marmora assisted them, the more he had come to take notice of the way the people of the planets that they had helped to free looked at them, with mistrust.

Though he hadn't been there- today's mission hadn't required Voltron, two lions sufficed to take back Puig- he'd been told that much by Lance and Hunk. And Keith had been among their number that day- not serving as a paladin, but as part of the Marmoran ground force. Seen that firsthand, for himself.

The universe might not be ready to accept that a Galra was one of the defenders of the universe. And he didn't think they'd understand either, that he hadn't _always_ been this way. Somehow, advertising the fact that he'd been held prisoner by Zarkon's witch and had his mind tampered with by her, didn't sound like the _best_ idea.

The witch had no tendrils in Keith- as far as anyone knew, and they'd checked, _extensively_. Ulaz had likely rescued him just in the nick of time- it would seem that he had more cause to be grateful to him than he could have ever imagined.

He'd allowed Voltron to form in the first place, and then he had helped make it whole again.

Above all, hiding his identity as the red paladin had been _Keith's_ choice. Those five months of living as a member of the Blade of Marmora, of living as a _Galra_ , had made its impact on him, one that Shiro doubted that he would ever be able to shake.

He still wasn't sure if he thought of himself as Keith- or as _Kethe_. He never objected to the use of his human name, but he never protested to the use of his Galran one, either. There had been some debate among the paladins about what to call him, at first- and he'd merely shrugged and said that whichever they chose was fine.

(He'd shot down Galra Keith, though. Amnesia Keith had earned them his first snarl.)

"Fair enough." Shiro said with a nod. "Might be awhile though. Interested in having a sparring partner while you wait?"

It was an offer that made him blink. "You sure about that?"

Keith was stronger than he once was, he knew. They hadn't sparred once, not since he'd become like this, but he didn't need to fight him to know that much. Still, if he thought that would give him an edge- Shiro couldn't help but give him a faint grin. "I'm sure."

The competitive spark in his eyes was the first thing Shiro had been able to read in them for weeks- and he could only softly laugh to himself. He might be purple now, but it seemed like Keith was very much always going to be Keith.

* * *

The first time he saw his old face, it hadn't been on purpose.

He didn't know what the cause was, nor which paladin it had drifted from, only that it had come through the bond. He'd jerked away from it so sharply, that he nearly broke Voltron apart- probably _not_ his best move, all things considered.

He isolated himself in his bedroom after that, unable to bring himself to deal with the other paladins. He needed time- time to calm down, time to come to a grips with what he'd been trying to avoid this whole time.

Touching a clawed hand to his face, he peered into the mirror, studying his own features as if they were once more unfamiliar to him. It was like he was back on the communications base with Ulaz, truly seeing his own face for the first time- and not just glimpses caught in reflective surfaces.

He'd known that humans came in earth tones, but it was strange to think that _he'd_ once been so pale and hairless. Well, not _hairless_ , he'd still had hair- a thick mop of it on his head, the same color as it was now, only a fair bit shorter. But he certainly didn't have any fur, and then skin underneath it was a far cry from the shade of purple it was now.

Peach, he thought. It had been peach, once.

There had been no claws, no fangs- all rounded edges, blunt. Only the canines had been the least bit sharp, he thought, opening his mouth and peering at his own teeth. He'd depended on them to break free from his captors, what felt like nearly a lifetime ago.

No tail, but he already knew that. His ears- they had been rounded at the tips, and had been a fair bit smaller. He suspected that his range of hearing as a human had been quite sub par- and his own hearing now _still_ wasn't quite as good as Kolivan's was, or any other Galra with more expressive, mobile ears.

The biggest change, he thought, staring at his own reflection, were the eyes. He'd had _pupils_ , once, and he didn't know why he found the concept so difficult to grasp. A deep blue, nearly purple- perhaps hinting at what lay underneath all along. There had been no yellow, even in the sclera- those had been white.

One hand still touching his face, he found himself wondering how they'd been able to recognize Keith so easily in it. Searching his features a little deeper, looking past everything that marked him as Galra, he thought he could see it, maybe. The shape of his nose, the set of his jaw... little things on his face, that still bore resemblance to himself as he once was- as a human.

It was... he didn't know what to think.

He'd been avoiding talking about the past out of some dreadful fear that it would confirm what he suspected- that he _wasn't_ Keith, just some stranger than had taken their place in his skin. That the other paladins were merely humoring him- they needed Voltron, and so they would put up with this _intruder_ who had taken over their friend's body.

At least among the Blade of Marmora, he'd been able to feel confident that they had wanted _him_ there. With the paladins... no matter how connected he might feel to them while in the paladin bond, he could never be quite sure.

"Keith?"

(Perhaps deep down, they loathed calling him that.)

Drawing in a long breath, he pulled himself away from the mirror. The sound of that voice... Shiro, but he could also smell the others. They seemed... _worried_ , almost.

They _were_ worried, he realized, upon cracking upon the door to let them see him.

"Keith man, I'm _so_ sorry." Hunk spoke first, rushing, so that all of his words seemed to nearly mush together. "That was all on me. It's just, you were back in the paladin armor for the first time today, and I just-"

"What he means to say is-" Shiro cut in, his tone calm, patient, "-that if you weren't ready to see that just yet-"

"-then it was my bad. Like, _super_ my bad." Hunk hurriedly finished, awkwardly shifting on his feet.

He could only blink, glancing between the four of them. He hadn't expected an apology, of all things.

"I'm-" He began, before stopping short. "I just wasn't expecting it, that's all. I'm fine."

"You sure?" Lance asked. "Because you kind of booked it from the red lion's hangar."

"Yeah, you did just sort of take off." Pidge observed. "It's okay if you're a little freaked out, Keith."

"Now you know how _I_ felt, back in the kitchen." Lance snorted, before pausing, a slight frown on his face. "Except well, I guess its your _own_ face we're talking about here, so that's gotta be like... _a lot_ weirder, right?"

"And you've _kind of_ been avoiding the whole topic, so we just thought that maybe..." Hunk trailed off, twiddling his thumbs together. "...maybe you didn't _want_ to know what you used to look like?"

Had he been that obvious?

"I- you're right." He admitted, averting his eyes. "I kind of didn't."

There was a long silence- before he felt the sensation of a hand on his shoulder. Looking up, he locked eyes with Shiro, finding something almost reassuring in them. He no longer seemed to flinch when he held his gaze, as he had in the early days. "And that's okay, Keith. There's no shame in admitting that. This whole thing can't be easy for you."

"Yeah man, like... I can't even imagine it." Hunk told him. "Like, amnesia is one thing, but waking up as a whole different race on top of that? I don't even know how you _manage_."

"Weird magic bullshit amnesia." Pidge muttered underneath her breath.

"The most bullshit." Lance agreed.

"I'm-" Opening and closing his mouth, he shook his head. It almost felt like they _cared_ about him.

And that was what caused it to sink in- to really sink in. It felt like they cared about him because they did, actually, care about him. _Him_ \- not the person that he couldn't remember being, and was still somewhat uncertain he actually was- but _him_ , here and now, with everything that meant.

Maybe... maybe it would be okay after all, for him to be _Keith_.

"I'll be fine." Keith finally said, cracking a smile. "Really."

And he meant it.


	4. alternate reality side

Hello, hello! I did promise that I would come back to this verse at some point, and thus, here I am! _Hole in the Sky_ was an episode with just so many interesting implications to it, so it was fun to play around with a scenario in which it happens while Keith is far, far more Galra. The fun part is that I'll eventually get the chance to do it again once _burgundy_ gets to that point, so that's like, double the fun!

* * *

 **abyss of memory**

 **alternate reality side**

* * *

"Does this feel like a haunted ghost ship to anybody else? Is it just me?"

"What's a ghost ship?"

"Wow seriously, Keith? Just how much of your brain did that creepy witch nuke?"

Frowning, Kethe's brows furrowed together. "What does that even _mean_?"

"Okay you two," Shiro piped up, glancing between them, "-this isn't exactly the best time for this. Keith, I'll explain about ghost ships when we get back to the Castle."

Satisfied with that, he buried his curiosity for the time being. He had a point- the situation they were in now was strange, to say the least. Picking up on an old Altean distress code? Finding an old Altean ship lodged in some kind of strange quintessence wormhole? Whatever was going on here was definitely weird.

Casting his gaze up ahead, to where the princess had decided to take up the lead position, he frowned. The moment she had picked up the distress call, she had been acting strange. Or... well, he thought she was. Maybe?

He'd only known her for like, four, maybe five weeks, and for most of that time frame, they had largely been avoiding the other. Maybe this was just normal.

He didn't know how to feel about the chance of there being more Alteans. They probably wouldn't take kindly to there being a Galra on their ship, and though he had darkened his helmet as much as it could allow, relying on his night vision to guide him, there wasn't much he could do about his tail.

He honestly hadn't wanted to come.

But he was a paladin of Voltron, so he had no choice.

He'd tried to protest- but the princess, she had been... well, _very_ insistent. And she did not seem to take at all kindly to his objections. In her mind, no doubt he was only trying to keep her from meeting more of her own kind.

He just didn't want to rush into a trap, that was all. The Blade of Marmora did not move until it possessed sufficient intelligence, but it would seem that the same could not be said about Voltron.

Ears twitching in his cramped helmet, Kethe turned his head with a frown. He didn't know how the princess did it, having even longer hair than he did- he'd had to cram his braid into it, since he couldn't just let it dangle and wrap it around his neck, like he did in his Marmoran armor.

"Something wrong, Keith?" Pidge asked, glancing back at him. "You hear something?"

"Not sure." Turning back to look at her, Kethe shook his head. "Can't hear as well as I'd like with-" lifting up his hands to indicate his helmet, "-this thing."

The rest of his paladin armor, though strange and unfamiliar, fit him just fine, having had to have been rebuilt from scratch. But the helmet was the only piece of the original red paladin armor that they had been able to salvage- apparently he had left it behind with his bayard when he had been taken by the Galra Empire.

Or well, that was what they told him. He didn't remember.

"You know, I could have a look at it, if you want." She offered. "All Coran did was repair the crack, but I can see if I can make some adjustments to make it more comfortable."

"I... might take you up on that." Kethe said.

"Cool. Just bring it to me once we're done with... well, whatever this is, I guess." She said, turning her gaze forward.

"You still think it's a trap?" Hunk piped up.

"I'm just saying, it's a possibility." Kethe told him, tail twitching indignantly. Just because he didn't have memories, that didn't make him an _idiot_. This whole thing still smelled like a trap to him. "This whole situation is weird."

"As weird as getting your memories stolen by a space witch?" Lance chimed in.

"Yes." Kethe said flatly.

It wasn't that he didn't know how strange his own situation was- how could he _not_?

"Yeah, okay, just checking." Lance told him. "But let us know if you do hear something with those Galra ears of yours."

Tilting his head, Kethe couldn't help but wonder why he needed to specify that they were _Galra_ ears. Of course they were Galra ears, _he_ was Galra- technically, even when he looked human, which was still a surreal tidbit of information that he couldn't quite wrap his head around, they _still_ would have been Galra ears.

On account of, you know, the whole half Galra thing.

Probably?

Probably.

At least, Kolivan seemed to think so. When he had shown him Keith's- his? _his_ \- knife, he had examined it, determining that indeed, it was one of theirs. Unlike the blade he had gone through the trials with, he could not wake it- but he still kept it, seeing as Kolivan made no move to take it back.

Shiro, the only one who had cause to know anything about his life before the Galaxy Garrison- whatever _that_ was- had confirmed that he'd always had that knife for as long as he knew him, but also that he had no idea where it came from.

It was just another puzzling piece of a past that he could not for the life of him remember. Kolivan had promised him that he would look into the matter himself, but if there was one thing he had learned about seeking answers, it was that they generally only ended up giving him even more questions.

Apparently, he'd been an needlessly enigmatic in the past. _Not helpful_ , Keith.

Was insulting himself going to give him any answers? No, but it sure as hell made him feel better.

(What was _hell_. He'd have to add that to his growing list of things to ask Shiro.)

"Trust me, if I hear anything, you'll be the first to know." Kethe retorted.

"Okay you two, quiet down back there." Shiro called back.

Tail twitching, Kethe couldn't help but frown, but he did do what was requested of him. He _still_ thought this was a bad idea.

At least the ship's systems still seemed to work, once the princess switched them back on. The Blade had been teaching him how to fight in zero gravity, but it wasn't his strongest suit. He wondered if he could get the training deck on the castle-ship to replicate the settings that they used for that type of combat simulation.

Lance's scream caught his ears. His first instinct was to reach around for his knife- except he didn't have it with him, having left both of them behind on the castle-ship. He still hadn't gotten used to the idea of using his bayard- summoning it wasn't as instinctive to him yet.

Looked like there was no need for it, though.

He was just freaking out over a corpse in a spacesuit. Which... he had to admit, was kind of creepy. Coupled with the video footage that Allura managed to dig up, the ship's last log, it was enough to tell them that something terrible had happened here.

It wasn't a question that he had long to dwell on, his ears twitching, gaze fixing up towards the ceiling. He wasn't just imagining things- there was someone else here aside from them.

By the time they came bursting out of the vent, he'd already drawn his bayard. There were a pair, clad in black, their faces obscured by their darkened helmets. Whoever they were, they immediately pegged them as hostile, so he returned the favor.

The bayard sword was good, he decided. Its weight was still strange and unfamiliar in his hands, but it sliced through the stranger's blaster as if it were nothing.

When the taller one's helmet cracked, breaking into small pieces, the paladins froze, and it took Kethe a moment to place why.

"... _Shiro_?"

Lance's whisper caught his ears, and he turned towards him, then back towards the hostile stranger, before turning back towards Shiro again- who looked just as wide eyed and astonished by this development as the rest of them. He did look a little like him, but...

Switching his helmet to visor mode, Kethe took a whiff of the air, now perking upright. They looked a little like each other, but their scents... their scents were nearly identical.

And his scent wasn't the only scent that he recognized either. Was that- was that _Slav_?

Kethe's noise crinkled in displeasure. He didn't like Slav. He treated him like some kind of statistical improbability, citing the high number of realities in which his capture resulted in everything going horribly wrong, and the very, _very_ low number in which they didn't.

"Who- who _are_ you?" Shiro asked, not yet powering down his arm, but certainly in less of a battle ready stance.

It was clear nobody was expecting the accent. It even threw Kethe off for a moment. "I am Sven. I should be asking who _you_ are."

"Shiro." Shiro told him. "I'm a paladin of Voltron."

That didn't seem to mean _anything_ to them, he recognized.

"He smells like you." Kethe informed him, not too keen on whispering. "That one smells like Slav."

"What- _Slav_!?" Lance blurted out, before letting out a low groan. " _Slav's_ here? Oh great, just what we need."

"I am Slav." The other alien admitted, a light in his helmet seeming to illuminate his face. "But I do not recall having met any Altean _sympathizers_."

 _Altean sympathizers_. The words were spat out with disgust, disdain, and coupled with the obvious fact that he didn't recognize them had Kethe tilting his head in confusion, his tail swishing behind him anxiously. This situation was only starting to make less and less sense.

"Okay, I think this _definitely_ is starting to qualify as being weirder than getting your memories stolen by a space witch." Hunk observed- and he did not know how he felt about being used as a measurement with which to determine some kind of weirdness quota. "...also what exactly _does_ Shiro smell like, Keith?"

Tail twitching, Kethe frowned. "Like Shiro."

What did he want him to say? That he smelled like vanilla?

(What even was _vanilla_.)

"Real helpful there, buddy." Lance remarked, before turning his attention back on Slav. "And how can you _not_ recognize me? We broke you out of space prison like, four weeks ago."

" _Five_ weeks ago." Pidge corrected, though she still looked somewhat distant. "Which is basically a month."

"You've never broken me out of any prison!" Slav protested, before pausing. "Unless-"

"-this is an alternate reality!"  
"-you're from an alternate reality!"

Alternate what now.

Wait- was that stuff Slav talked about actually _real_? It was a thought that sent a cold shiver up his spine, recalling again, the poor odds that he had given him.

He only half listened to Pidge's explanation as to how they had managed to slip into another reality- his gaze was instead fixed on the two not-stranger strangers, who smelled so much like people he already knew that he couldn't help but be thrown off by it. His gaze must have caught their attention- for not-Shiro turned his own on him, narrowing his eyes.

Oh, right. He'd forgotten part of his face was showing. The rest of his helmet's visor was still darkened, but the lavender fur and the tail were enough of a giveaway.

"You." And though the words were addressed to him, his gaze flickered over towards Allura for the span of an instant. "Remove your helmet."

Narrowing his eyes, Kethe turned his gaze away from not-Shiro, letting it fall on the actual Shiro. He might have listened to _him_ when he'd told him to unmask, but however much this man smelled like Shiro, he wasn't him.

"It's fine, Keith." Shiro told him. "Go on."

Frowning, Kethe reached up, pulling off his helmet, almost half grateful for the excuse. His braid tumbling out of it, falling over his shoulder, he met the eyes of the two.

"You're Galra." Not-Slav half whispered, uncharacteristically quiet- at least for the Slav he knew. He sounded... surprised. Surprised, and _troubled_.

"You got a problem with that?" Kethe asked.

Sven muttered something under his breath then, too low for him to fully make out what was being said. All he caught was the word _hoktril_ , but he had no idea what that even was. He didn't miss the pointed glance he cast towards his head as he said that, and unable to stop himself, Kethe felt his hand straying up towards it, wondering what it was that he seemed to expect to find there.

And why it made his fur stand on end.

"It is not _us_ who have the problem." Sven said. "But if the _Alteans_ find you-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence, an alarm sensor in not-Slav's suit having been tripped. They wasted very little time in switching gears- scurrying back up the ventilation shaft, the way they had come.

And while the princess seemed fixated on the idea of _more_ Alteans, Kethe didn't miss the way that the pair had told them to _run_.

He put his helmet back on, switching it back to enclosed mode.

His instincts told him this was wrong.

* * *

 _Alteans_.

She could not believe her eyes.

There were Alteans on this ship.

How long had it been since she had seen another of her kind?

(She was _not_ counting Zarkon's witch among their number, vile and twisted creature that she was.)

And to hear that there was a reality where the terror of the Galra Empire had not come to fruition... she felt her heart surge in her chest at the news. A reality where Altea, her beloved Altea, still existed!

Though if she had to be quite honest, she did not know what to think of being referred to as _Empress_. There was something about it that seemed... _wrong_ , but perhaps that was simply because all her life, she had been referred to as princess.

General Hira was the name of the Altean that first bowed to her. Upon learning that she had come from a reality that had been overrun by the Galra, she had been quick to offer their assistance, should they be able to provide it, and her heart surged again at the offer. If they were able to obtain Altean allies in this war...

"Who are your companions, Empress?"

Oh, yes. She had been so caught up in the living, breathing Alteans before her, that she had nearly forgotten about the paladins. With a soft smile, she stepped aside, so as to properly introduce them.

"These are the paladins of Voltron." She told her. "They are the most substantial fighting force we have against the Galra Empire."

"Then it is very well met indeed." Hira said, turning her full focus on them- and frowning. For a moment, her expression seemed to darken.

Something clicked in Allura's mind, and she hurried to make her way over towards Shiro, on whom Hira's gaze had frozen. "This is Shiro, of Earth. He is the black paladin, and the leader of Voltron."

Her words seemed to provide her with some reassurances, but she did not miss the way her brow crinkled. "I see. You will have to forgive me, but you bare some resemblance to a rather nasty dissident that we have been attempting to capture for some years now."

There was something about the way that she spat out _dissident_ that gave Allura pause. She knew who she was referring to, of course- it must have been Sven.

She could tell her, of course, that he was aboard the ship. But something stopped her.

None of the other paladins came forward with that piece of information either. In truth, she found it hard to believe that Shiro, _any_ version of Shiro, could fight against the cause of peace, but she found it just as hard to believe that Alteans could cause such travesties that they would need to be fought against.

Again, Zarkon's witch plagued her mind, but she shook it off.

That was merely one Altean, alone. It meant nothing.

Even if she had done _horrid_ things, she thought, her gaze unintentionally trailing back towards Keith.

Hira's gaze followed.

If she thought that her expression had darkened before, it had only been a pale shadow of the way in which it did now. Though it was impossible to make out Keith's features past the shadow of his helmet, it did not hide everything- not when the new paladin armor that he had been given had been made with his new Galra features in mind.

She knew that expression, for she had once fixed one very much the same on him.

"Ah yes," stepping into Hira's view, she forced herself to smile, "-this is Keith, our red paladin."

"You must be desperate," Hira's voice was cool, in a way that made her skin prickle, "-if you have chosen to recruit a _Galra_ to your cause."

* * *

Kethe froze, alarm bells going off in his head.

He reached around for his knife again, before he recalled- _again_ \- that he didn't have it with him. All his instincts were screaming that he needed to get out of here, that he needed to get away.

He did not trust this woman.

"You can trust Keith." Shiro spoke, and he jerked his head towards him, finally feeling himself able to breathe again. He was still far from calm, every piece of him on edge- but he was reminded that the paladins held him with value, for all that he was.

He... still did not quite know what to make of this revelation.

He wished that he could say that it had washed away all of his issues, but there were still times that he found himself fearful that he was nothing more than a stranger wearing their friend's skin, afraid that their words were just that- merely words. There were times still, when he found himself wanting to retreat back to the sanctuary of the Blade of Marmora, where he could merely be Kethe.

But it had not been that long yet. He just... he needed time, that was all.

Time to embrace the idea of being _Keith_ as well.

There was still a fear there, that he would take too much time to do so, and that the paladins, for all their words, would grow tired of him. It brought him pain, that thought- the more he got to know them, the fonder he found himself feeling in regards to these humans.

It was strange to think, that when he had first met him, the only thing he could feel towards them was _resentment_. Now he understood that none of them treated the loss of Ulaz with ease- that in their eyes, the sacrifice of the one who he owed his freedom to, was a great one indeed.

Except, perhaps, for the princess. He still could not pin her down.

"So you say." Hira's cool observation made his fur stand on end. "Do you not think it a risk, Empress? I would never be one to question your judgement," except that is what you are doing right now, Kethe thought to himself, "-but a _Galra_?"

"Keith is... a long story." Allura told her. "But Shiro is correct. You can trust him. The lions of Voltron choose their paladins, and the red lion has chosen Keith- twice over, in fact."

He would be touched by the defense, but he honestly couldn't tell if she was defending him, or her own leadership choices. Probably the latter.

"Have him take off his helmet." Hira instructed, not looking at him, but rather, at Allura.

This again, Kethe thought to himself. At least Sven had the decency to ask him to do it himself.

"Keith, could you?" Allura asked.

For a long moment, Kethe merely held her gaze- before he grumbled, reaching up to pull of his helmet. Though the pressure release was the same as it had been before, somehow, he couldn't find any relaxation in it.

Hira, just as Sven and not-Slav had, looked past him. As if not seeing what she hoped to see, her brows knitted together, disgust vivid on her features.

"It would seem, Empress, that there is a way we can help you right now." Hira spoke, her gaze not wavering from him as she snapped her fingers. "Moxilus, hold him."

Kethe's gaze jerked up, falling on the only non Altean in their party- a strange, hulking alien of a race that he was not familiar with. Taking half a step back, he gritted his teeth, sensing a fight and readying himself for it.

Only to find himself flanked by Hunk and Lance, Pidge positioning herself in front of them. It would have been laughable, the smallest of them all out in front, but he had seen the viciousness with which she could fight.

They were... _defending_ him, some small part of him realized. Even as fear clawed at his heart, the realization gave him some small spark of hope.

"Hira please, there is no need for this." Allura spoke up, glancing between the Altean general and himself, as if she were trying to work out just what was happening here. He could almost smell her stress from here.

Shiro was still as death, but his guard was raised. He was watching.

"Moxilus, halt." Hira commanded- and just as he had before, the alien- _Moxilus_ \- froze. There was something disquieting about the ease with which he obeyed her commands, feeling as if he were just as much of a robot as the gladiators that flanked them. "Empress Allura, please. I only wish to be of assistance."

"By restraining one of my paladins?" Allura asked. "I fail to see how that is necessary."

"You misunderstand." The other Altean spoke now, and Kethe frowned, unable to recall if he had given his name or not. Either way, he did not like the look of this man. There was something to him that reminded him of the witch. "We seek to _help_ your paladin."

He did not think he wanted this man's help.

"Help?" Shiro asked. "What do you mean by _help_?"

"I understand that desperate times call for desperate measures, Empress, but there is too much risk to allow a Galra to call himself one of your allies." Hira spoke, her cold gaze falling on him- and he returned it with a glower of his own, teeth bared in a snarl.

Perhaps it was the wrong move, for she merely lifted her head to indicate it. "You see? His base nature is corrupt. We, however, hold the key to fix it, should you allow us."

"Fix-" Shiro began, narrowing his eyes. "There's nothing _wrong_ with Keith."

Technically, not true. There was plenty wrong with Keith, he thought to himself.

Hira merely turned that cold gaze of hers on Shiro, assessing him with a dispassionate glance, as if he too, had proven some kind of point of hers. "It is his base nature that is the issue. The Galra were an evil, _vile_ race- proven more clearly by the Galra Uprising than anything else."

"We wiped the Galra scourge from our reality," Hira continued- and it was a thought that truly sent a cold surge of fear through Kethe, the casual way with which she spoke of his people's _genocide_ , "-but with the technology that we have now, there is no need to rely on such brutish methods."

"Preservation of life is the Altean Empire's highest priority." The Altean man almost seemed to hum, producing a gleaming silver device. "The _hoktril_ can ensure that your Galra will not be a slave to his own nature, and you can be at peace knowing that he will never be able to betray you."

There was one just like it, Kethe noticed, fixed to the head of Moxilus.

Kethe drew his bayard, his grip on it so tight that the only thing keeping his claws from digging into his flesh was his armor. He did not know what that thing was, but he could almost _smell_ the stench of his cell from it, an image of the witch overlaying the Altean man who held it.

He didn't care what point it probably proved to these Alteans, he bared his fangs and growled. He would not let them touch him, would tear them apart with his teeth if needed, just so long as it kept them- and that thing- _away_ from him.

"Allura-" Shiro spoke up, his body language terse, tense.

"Hira, I can assure you, none of this is necessary." Allura told her, her tone strained. " _Please_."

"You say that it is not necessary, yet he draws his weapon on us." Hira observed, her tone cool, impassive.

"Uh, yeah, because I'm pretty sure you're threatening to mess with his head?" Lance piped up. "Pretty sure that after the whole deal with the witch, that's like, a _huge_ red flag for Keith."

"What is this _hoktril_ of yours even supposed to be?" Pidge asked. She looked as if she were two seconds away from drawing her own bayard, impressions be damned.

The man who reminded him too much of the witch looked almost pleased that she had asked. "It is our civilizations most advanced technological achievement. With it, we can rehabilitate our enemies, rather than have to spill unnecessary blood."

"Is your definition of rehabilitation _scrambling brains_?" Hunk asked. "Cause I can't help but notice that big dude over there doesn't do anything unless you tell him to."

"Moxilus here is living a very content existence as a non-cog." The man informed them. "Now that he is no longer a slave to his own brutish nature, he too, can understand true peace. Your red paladin can too."

"Non-cog." Kethe hissed, his tail swishing angrily behind him, the sound of his voice almost seeming to take the pair of Alteans by surprise. What, did they think he was so feral that he did not even know how to speak? "You want to take away my free will."

He had already been robbed of his memories, his body twisted and changed against his will- he was not going to allow a single thing more to be stolen from him.

"No."

Jerking his head towards Allura, fearing that her cold tone was directed towards him, he instead found her gaze fixed sharply on Hira.

"No, I will not allow you to do that to _my_ paladin."

Hira, for the span of a moment, almost seemed to be genuinely baffled by this reaction. "Empress, I can assure you, that once the procedure is completed-"

"There will be no procedure." Allura told her, drawing herself up, every bit the regal princess she could manage. "I will _not_ stand around here and listen to you continue to tell me how my paladin deserves to be robbed of thought merely because he is Galra."

"Come," she said, turning on her heel to face them, steel in her gaze, "-we are leaving."

* * *

They didn't let them go without a fight, but she had been expecting that.

Perhaps they would have not made it out of there on their own- but they had not been. The Guns of Gamara had been with them, and thanks to their efforts, they had been able to not only escape the other reality, but take the comet back with them, ensuring that the Altean Empire would never be able to forge trans-reality ships of their own.

She had never thought that she would turn her back on her own people, but if they were truly willing to take away the free will of other beings... then perhaps they were _not_ her people.

That she would turn her back on her own people for the sake of a _Galra_ \- well, she was still more than a little surprised by how things had managed to play themselves out.

Would she alter her choice any, if given a second chance? No, not one bit.

To rob Keith of his free will... a shudder ran down her spine at the mere thought. She would be lying if she claimed that she had grown used to the solid yellow of his eyes, but they were far better with a spark of fire in them, than they would ever be devoid of it.

That, she thought, had not changed.

The eyes were different, yes, very much so- but the spark they held was the same. On the ghost ship, the amount of hate and anger contained within them nearly made them monstrous- but he was _not_ the monster there.

The Alteans- her people- had been.

Because as much hate and anger as there had been in those eyes, she had not missed the _fear_.

He had been... he had been so very, very afraid. It had only shown through for the span of a moment, but she had seen it- the pure, unmitigated terror that had crossed his face.

He had vanished into the bowels of the ship almost as soon as they had returned to it. He had returned to his quarters for a short span, before vanishing again.

When she found him, he was on the observation deck. Sitting close to one of the great windows, he had drawn his knees close to his chest, his tail curled tightly around them. He had changed out of his paladin armor, and back into his Marmoran armor, the hood of it drawn up.

"Keith?"

For the span of a moment, he did not respond.

"Princess."

His tone was curt, betraying nothing.

"You may call me Allura, you know." She observed, drawing as close to him as she dared. When his body grew too tense, she halted, taking one step back, watching as his shoulders eased.

It was the first time the two had cause to be alone together, ever since she had ambushed him in the hallway. Likely, they had both been avoiding the other.

It was to be expected that silence would hang between them. Neither of them knew what to make of each other- though she had resolved herself to accept it, in truth, she still struggled with the idea of Keith being Galra.

And Keith... Keith struggled with a great many things, she suspected.

"...you sure you made the right choice, princess?"

The question startled her, more than a little.

"You could have gone back to Altea." Keith told her, his voice betraying nothing. "To your people."

And her heart ached at the thought. Altea, her _home_. Not a day went by that she did not long for it still. What she would give for a chance to see it, even once more.

"Not at the expense of your free will." Allura told him. "You have had... much taken from you already. I could not allow anything further."

"You think I would let them." Keith almost seemed to hiss. "I would not."

Oh, she knew.

He would rend flesh from bone if it meant escaping from capture for a second time. And if that did not work, he would, in all likelihood, take his own life before he could succumb to such a fate.

"I know that you would not." Allura told him, shaking her head. "But not even the promise of home would be enough for me to cast away my very moral fiber. If true peace can only be obtained by robbing the free will from others... then I want no part in it."

"...probably not the Altea you remember anyways."

His words were so faint, that she was almost positive that if her hearing were not as good as it was, she would have never heard him.

He was... trying to comfort her, she realized with a small shock. _Her_. He'd nearly had his very will stripped from him by her own kind, and he was trying to comfort _her_. She was the one who had lead them into that situation to begin with, insistent that they pursue what had turned out to very much be a trap after all.

"...likely not." Allura finally said, fixing her gaze on the window. "Perhaps it is for the best."

For a moment, they remained there, in silence.

Then slowly, Keith rose to his feet, tail uncurling from around his legs. Lowering his hood, he turned back to look at her, almost seeming to study her features for a moment. "Do you resent that the red lion took me back?"

"No." Allura told him. "Not anymore."

"Would you rather I look human?" He asked her- and though his gaze did not drop from her, she did not miss the way he clenched and unclenched his fists, letting his claws press into the palm of his hands.

Almost as if to reassure himself that they were still there.

It struck her then, in a way it had yet to. That to all of them, Keith's current appearance was one that had been forced upon him, a change that he had no say in. But to him... to him, it was all that he had cause to know.

Logically, she _knew_ this. By the time Keith had lost his memories, he had already been transformed. He had lived, for five months, nearly half a year, possessing only the knowledge that he was Galra, and nothing else. And why would he doubt it? He looked so very much like one- any trace of human in him had been almost totally wiped away.

So to be told that he once had been as such... how did that make him feel? To know that the face that he wore was not entirely his own, and yet at the same time, it being the only thing he had cause to be familiar with. She had heard from the paladins the way he had reacted to the glimpse he had gotten of himself as a human- and how he had recoiled from it, so violently that it nearly tore Voltron apart.

She realized, then, just what a loaded question that was.

"I- perhaps." Allura admitted after a moment. She could not lie to him, it would likely be much easier for her. "But would _you_?"

It was a question that caught him off guard, she saw it written on every inch of his face.

"I don't-" He began, before shaking his head. "I don't remember _being_ human. This is... this is all I know."

"Well then." Allura said. "That is all that really matters."

"That simple?" He asked, tail seeming to twitch in doubt.

"There is no one here who wishes for your discomfort, Keith." Allura told him. "My issues with the Galra... they run deep, I will admit. But they are _my_ issues, and it is on me to deal with them. I cannot force anyone to alter themselves for my own peace of mind."

He watched her for a moment longer, saying nothing.

"...thank you."

She did not expect that, not in the least.

"There is nothing to thank me for, Keith." Allura told him, a soft smile on her face. "Now come, the others are worried about you, and likely would appreciate seeing your face. And I believe you still have yet to ask Shiro about ghost ships."

He seemed to perk up at the mention, as if he had completely forgotten about all it.


	5. lance side

Back at it again, this time with something from Lance's perspective! I actually have one more addition to this series planned, coming from the perspective of someone who _isn't_ a paladin, but I won't spoil just whose it will be, so you'll just have to wait and see!

* * *

 **abyss of memory**

 **lance side**

* * *

"Do you think he has like, toe beans?"

Barely sparing a glance up from what she was working on, Pidge frowned. "Who, Keith?"

"No, Zarkon." Lance told her, rolling his eyes. " _Yes_ , I mean Keith."

Now she _did_ look at him, if only to glower. "Thanks, Lance, that was a mental image I didn't need."

"You're welcome." Lance said. "But seriously, what do you think- toe beans?"

"If you're so concerned about Keith's feet, why don't _you_ ask him?" Pidge told him, hands resting on the helmet that she had been tinkering with.

Keith's helmet, in the middle of adjustments. As far as he could tell, she was working on opening up a hole at the base of it, so that he could slip that new braid of his through and not have to just cram the whole thing in there.

And he'd thought the _mullet_ was bad. Braid Keith was like, entirely next level.

"Uh, because that would be weird?" Lance told her. "Hey there Keith buddy, I know you've only known me for like, a month now what with your whole weird _magic amnesia bullshit_ and all, but do you mind if I take a quick look at the soles of your feet? Yeah, like _that'd_ go over well. I'd sound like a total freak!"

"So instead you come to me and ask about his feet." Pidge observed, arching her brows. "Because that's not weird at all."

"I didn't, I was just-!" Lance sputtered. "I was just trying to make conversation, that's all!"

"Don't worry Lance, I won't tell anyone about your foot fetish." Pidge remarked, the grin she gave him her most impish yet. "Besides, I'd be more worried about the obvious fact that two of his toes _fused together_ than I would be worried about," and did she _have_ to hold his gaze like that, "- _toe beans_."

Lance couldn't help but wince at that. She... kinda had a point there yeah, when she put it like that.

It wasn't like he'd _forgotten_ , it was damn hard to forget that Keith was like, super Galra now, it was just kind of... he tried not to think about the _how_ of it, that's all. They would never know for sure what the details were of Keith's transformation, nor how fast or how painful it had been, since the only person who could tell them didn't remember the first thing about it.

Which... all things considered? Was probably actually a good thing.

"Why are you _here_ anyways?" Pidge asked. "Aren't you usually," oh no, here come the air quotes, he hated the air quotes, "- _getting your chill on_ in the lounge around this time of day?"

"Usually." Lance told her. "Lounge is occupied."

The words sparked an instant understanding in her, one that she wouldn't have had even a month ago.

Just a month ago, they never could have imagined that walking into the lounge to find Keith fast asleep on one of the couches would be like, a regular thing. Granted, that was mostly due to the fact that just a month ago, they were all facing the gnawing dread that he was possibly _dead_ , but hey- details.

"Coran did say that adolescent Galra sleep a fair bit." Pidge observed.

Letting out a faint snort, Lance leaned back. "Can't believe Keith's like, a Galra baby."

"Adolescents aren't _babies_ , Lance." Pidge chided him. " _We're_ adolescents. Galra just spend a lot longer in that stage than humans do, what with the longer life span and all."

And that was one of the many Galra facts they'd learned that none of them wanted to dwell on, at least, not yet, so she pushed forward, away from that particular topic. "Besides, the fact that he's willing to fall asleep out in the open like that means he's comfortable with us."

"You ever think like... he's actually _more_ comfortable with us than pre-amnesia Keith?" Lance asked.

She actually seemed to consider the question, for a change. "Maybe? I mean, I don't think pre-amnesia Keith _hated_ us, but he didn't exactly spend a whole lot of time hanging out with us."

"Yeah, it's weird." Lance observed. "He actually like... seeks us out now, sometimes?"

The first time Keith had crept up on him- and he was sticking to that description, Galra Keith was quiet as hell when he moved, damn Marmora training- he thought he'd come to pick a fight. But no, all he'd wanted was to see what it was that he was up to.

It made sense, he guessed- Keith didn't know any of them, not anymore. Of course you'd want to try and learn about people you were told that you'd known in the past, however reluctant he was to hear any details regarding himself.

It was just... Keith didn't do that. Or well, he _hadn't_.

But _Kethe_? Kethe was a whole new ball game.

And that was the weirdest part of all this. Not the fact that Keith had sprouted fur, or grown a tail, or, as he had found out with no small degree of amusement, could _purr_ \- but the fact that he kind of both was and _wasn't_ Keith.

Like, he was Keith. There was no debating that.

But he also... kind of _wasn't_? Kethe and Keith were like, incredibly similar, appearances aside, to the point where trying to act like they were different people was a stretch but... there were differences.

Some of them were subtle, like the shape of his bayard. Others were more pronounced, like the way he would actively seek out company from time to time instead of spending most of his time either on the training deck, or with Shiro.

Guess living as another person for several months would do that to a guy. It wasn't like the Blade of Marmora had given him a new past or anything like that- but just the general lack of _having_ one was enough to make an impact. He wasn't going to claim that he knew enough about how the human (Galra?) brain worked to know exactly how, but even _he_ knew that memories were kind of fundamental in shaping a person.

So without them... yeah, changes were bound to happen.

That said, he knew like, jack and shit about Keith's past. The first time he'd met him, it was when he'd _crushed_ his sim scores at the Garrison, claiming the number one spot. At the time he'd thought that he was a smug little bastard, all aloof and distant, pretending not to care.

In hindsight, he realized he'd probably been like, thinking about what he was going to have for dinner or something. He didn't know. He definitely hadn't been _mocking_ him, at any rate.

Shiro probably knew, but it was like... weird to ask about someone's past when even _they_ didn't know about it- or even seemed to really _want_ to know about it. Because honestly? He kind of didn't.

Keith like... never asked.

He'd kind of expected him to sort of... start doing that, after the one time he'd seen himself, but it had never come up. Maybe he was just waiting for the right moment, or maybe he just wasn't ready for that line of questioning yet... but it was weird. If he'd been the one to lose his memories, he'd definitely want to know what he'd been like.

Then again, if he'd lost his memories, he'd still be _human_. From what little he managed to gather from Coran's explanation, the only reason the witch had been able to do this to Keith was because he already had Galra blood in the first place.

So that was... that was a whole new ball in play, he guessed. Maybe Keith just stunk at juggling.

"I mean sure, it's kind of weird." Pidge's voice broke him out of his thoughts. "But not like, _bad_ weird, right?"

Considering the question, Lance frowned. "Nah. Definitely not bad weird."

"Although," Lance added, "-it is kind of weird how he like... remembers basically _nothing_ about Earth. I mean, maybe he wasn't that up to speed on his pop culture, but even pre-amnesia Keith knew what a _cow_ was."

Pidge let out a faint bubble of laughter at that, clearly recalling the red paladin's first introduction to Kaltenecker. He'd tried talking to it, and had been visibly embarrassed when he'd been informed that it was an animal, and therefore, couldn't understand him.

"True." Pidge admitted, turning over Keith's helmet in her hands, giving it a slight frown. "But there's only so much we can teach him about it when we're in the middle of space. All we have is the stuff we brought from Earth, and like, the video game console we bought at the-"

She froze.

Lance blinked- then _grinned_. "...you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Space mall?" Pidge asked.

" _Space mall_."

* * *

He wasn't sure what he was expecting when Lance swooped into the room, but it probably wasn't this.

"Please Shiro, you _have_ to let us go back to the space mall." He'd said, clasping his hands together, as if in prayer.

"...space mall." Shiro repeated.

"Yeah, the uh- the Unilu swap moon or whatever Coran called it." Lance told him. "Which, by the way- totally just a space mall."

Well at least now he understood what it was that he was talking about, if not _why_ he suddenly wanted to go there out of the blue. He hadn't gone with them on their last trip- he'd been kind of busy fighting Zarkon on the astral plane- but from what he understood, their last trip there had been... _interesting_.

They'd come back with a cow, for starters.

"So what is it that you need at this... space mall?" Shiro asked.

"Oh, it's not about what _I_ need." Lance told him, placing a hand over his chest. "It's about what _Keith_ needs."

Lance.

Thinking about _Keith_.

This had to be some sort of trick.

"Keith." Shiro repeated, arching a brow.

"Uh, yeah, Keith. You know, tall, purple, and fuzzy?" Lance told him, before heaving a sigh. "Look Shiro, you know just as well as I do that his head's like this freaky void, so I'm just thinking about what I can do to help our most favorite space cat."

"Space cat." Shiro repeated- _again_.

"Yeah, yeah, space cat, try and stay with me here Shiro." Lance told him. "You know what they have at the space mall? They have an _Earth store_ at the space mall. And you know what Keith doesn't have?"

"Basic common sense about the planet he was born on, that's what." Lance finished.

Okay, now they were getting somewhere.

"So you want to take Keith to this... Earth store?" Shiro ventured.

"Yes, yes that is exactly what I want." Lance told him. "Please, Shiro?"

Considering the question for the span of a moment, Shiro eventually let out a short sigh. He did kind of have a point. "As long as Keith agrees to it, you can go."

Pumping his fists, Lance grinned. "Yes! Thank you Shiro, I'll go talk to Keith right-!"

Then he paused, almost seeming to think better of it.

Ah, he knew what that meant.

"Where is he this time?" Shiro asked. "Not on the training deck again, I hope."

He could understand why that kept happening- Keith had always been good at ignoring his body's own signs of exhaustion, so it came as no surprise to him that this hadn't changed in the least.

"Conked out in the lounge." Lance reported. "He's actually _wearing_ his jacket this time, so it's not like he conked out on the training deck and Hunk just found him and brought him to the lounge."

Satisfied with that, Shiro gave him a nod of his head. "Just remember Lance- if Keith says he doesn't want to, that's the end of it. We all need to let him find his comfort zone here."

Though given Keith's general curiosity regarding all things Earth... he kind of doubted he'd say no.

* * *

"Space... mall?"

The confused tilt of Keith's head was hard to miss, Lance thought. "Yeah, you know- a swap moon?"

"I... don't know what that is either." Keith confessed after a moment, his tail swaying behind him. "But you want me to come with you to this... this _swap mall_?"

"Uh yeah, that's about it. You, me, Hunk and Pidge." Lance told him, wondering how he could have possibly come out of that with a third, completely new name for the place. "Like, you don't have to come if you don't want to, dude, that's not the way we do things around here."

"No, I mean, I-" Keith began, before frowning, almost seeming to draw in on himself for a moment. "Are you sure you want _me_ to come?"

And nope, he wasn't having that.

Listen, maybe he wasn't the most knowledgeable guy around, but even he could tell that Keith was living through like... the worst existential crisis he had ever witnessed. But the least the guy could do was give them a little more credit- none of them were going to abandon him just because he'd come back to them being a little fluffier than they remembered.

"Uh, duh?" Lance told him. "This whole trip is kind of _for_ you, so... yeah, I'd say we want you to come."

"For me?" Keith asked, perking up at that.

"Yeah, like- there's this Earth store at the space mall, that sells like, all this stuff from Earth." Lance told him. "Well, I mean it's all kind of outdated stuff, like you should have _seen_ what the alien dude in charge of it was wearing, I swear his fashion sense was worse than _yours_ -"

His words earned him a snarl, but he pressed on, knowing damn well by now that nothing would come of that.

Unless they were on the training deck. All bets were off if they were on the training deck.

"So anyways, Earth store." Lance told him. "Since like, you're always super curious about Earth stuff, we thought you might want to go. But if you don't want to then-"

"Okay."

"-then that's okay, I totally under-"

"I said _okay_ , Lance."

"You sure?" Lance asked.

"I wouldn't have agreed to it if I wasn't sure." Keith told him. "So yeah, I'm sure."

"Okay, well, glad to hear it buddy." Lance said. "I can talk it over with Coran, set a date."

"Sounds like a plan." Keith told him, before pausing. "So is that where you got the cow?"

"Yup!" Lance told him, nodding his head. "She was free with purchase."

* * *

Oh space mall, how he had missed you so.

Sure, the last time he had been here, it had ended in unexpected head trauma, but hey- he wasn't about to hold that against it.

"Alright you four," ah there it was, Shiro's most authoritative tone, "-a few ground rules first."

His loud groan was totally ignored, Shiro pressing on. He sort of tuned out what he was saying- except for the last part, only making out the very tail end of it. "-and no more farm animals."

"Aw shucks, Shiro, I was hoping to bring home a chicken this time." Lance told him- and though he was clearly joking, he couldn't help but flinch a little underneath Shiro's gaze. "Alright, alright, no more farm animals, I got it."

"And Hunk?" Shiro spared a glance over towards the yellow paladin. "Try not to get captured by food court employees this time."

"I will do my utmost best." Hunk told him, giving him a surprisingly honest salute.

Keith, for his part, watched them with a curious expression, almost as if he wanted to ask, but somehow thought he wasn't prepared for the answer. It was different than the expression that he wore whenever they skirted a bit too close to discussing his _before_ \- he wasn't _afraid_ of the answer, so much as he seemed to have already accepted that it wouldn't explain shit.

Which was fair. Their last trip to the space mall had been a wild time.

Lecture over, Shiro left them to their own devices- Coran had given him a list of things that he thought they needed around the castle-ship. They had about an hour of free time before they were supposed to meet up in front of the clock, which was more than enough.

"Keith, my buddy, my pal," Lance began, grabbing him by the shoulders, "-are you ready to get your first real taste of Earth culture?"

Tilting his head, Keith's brows furrowed, almost looking hesitant. "...I guess?"

"That'll do." Lance told him, giving his shoulders a pat, before finally releasing the Galra from his grasp. "Now, onwards to the Earth store!"

"To the Earth store!" Pidge and Hunk echoed.

There was a pause, a beat if you would.

"...to the Earth store?" Keith hesitantly repeated, uncertain. "Was... was I supposed to say that with you guys?"

Ah yes, Lance thought to himself. Some things truly never changed.

(He still thought the chant went I say _Vol_ , you say _Voltron_.)

* * *

For someone that they had knocked over with a cow, the Earth store sales-alien sure did seem happy to see them. Guess he must have been serious when he said he never sold anything.

If he had anything to say about the Galra that was currently pawing through his merchandise, he kept it to himself. Which... come to think of it, aside from Varkon and that Sal guy that had chained Hunk to a sink, there didn't seem to be an awful lot of Galra hanging around the space mall.

Which was _probably_ a good thing? They might actually _need_ Keith's knife then.

Which... yeah, he'd totally brought with him. To the space mall, which was like, really low on the list of places he might need to stab someone.

As near as Lance could guess, it was the one he'd brought from Earth. It looked like, virtually identical to the one the Blade of Marmora had given him, but one could transform, and the other couldn't, so he kept the one that couldn't with his civilian clothing. The other he took with him when he left to run missions for the Blade of Marmora.

Which was... a thing.

He still didn't quite know what to make of the idea that Keith had gone and joined a super secret Galra spy ring during his absence. On one hand, the whole concept of a super secret Galra spy ring working from within the ranks of the Galra Empire to overthrow it was like, _super cool_.

On the other hand... it was eerie, almost, the way he blended in with them.

He'd gone with Shiro to the Blade of Marmora base, he'd _seen_ Keith with them. Before his name had been called, he hadn't even thought twice about the one Galra that was shorter than the rest.

And sure, one could argue that was like, before he knew the truth. But it hadn't been the _only_ time. Planet Puig? He hadn't even noticed that Keith was a part of the ground forces until _after_ they returned from the mission.

He had been there, on the same planet with them, and he had never so much as left the Blade of Marmora's side.

 _Knowledge or death_ , some part of him whispered, wondering how much Keith followed that same creed himself now.

And then he shook the thought off. No, nope, no sir- he had come to the space mall to have a good time, he was not about to get bogged down thinking about things like that. Time to think about something- _anything_ \- else.

Thank god he quickly found one.

Or had one like, thrust into his face, bless Keith's Galra heart (and it was a _Galra_ heart, now, and he didn't even want to think about what kind of transformation _that_ had involved). "What's this?"

"Ooh, lava lamp." Lance said, taking it from him. "Totally retro."

"There's lava in there?" Keith asked, for a moment, almost seeming alarmed. His fur even _bristled_.

Totally a giant space cat.

(Why, oh why, was he only missing the fluffy ears? Why was God so cruel?)

"I- what, you don't know what a _cow_ is, but you know what _lava_ is?" Lance asked, looking incredulous.

"Lava exists on other planets, Lance." Pidge supplied, barely even sparing him a second glance as she busied herself with rifling through a box of assorted game cartridges. "Volcanoes aren't exactly an Earth isolated phenomena."

"Hm, fair point." Lance admitted. "And no, it's not like, _actual_ lava, it's just... it's just called that, that's all."

"Oh." Keith seemed to blink, fur that had been raised in alarm settling back down. "Why?"

"Uh..." Trailing off, he realized that he had no idea. "I don't... I don't know?"

For the span of a moment, Keith's expression was next to unreadable- before he made a slight hum, taking the lava lamp back from Lance. It seemed like he'd figured something out, but felt no need to share whatever it was with the class.

Which was like, so Keith.

"You gonna buy that, buddy?" Lance asked, before pausing. "Wait, do you even have money?"

"Kolivan gave me some." Keith told him, turning the lava lamp over in his hands, his claws lightly clicking against its surface.

"What, like an allowance?" Lance joked.

"A what?" Keith blinked, glancing down at him.

(He was _never_ going to get used to Keith being taller than him.)

"I- you know what, nevermind." Lance told him. "Your room could use some decor anyways."

It seriously could. If there was one thing that he had noticed during Keith's absence, it was how empty his room was compared to the rest. Even _Shiro_ , who hadn't accumulated much in the way of personal effects, at least had a few items of note, but Keith?

Keith had his clothes and his knife, and that was it.

Even his shack on Earth had been weirdly devoid of any personal effects. Sure yeah, it had been _cluttered_ \- but there was nothing really personal, nothing to give it that human touch.

When he had left the Garrison, he'd done so with nothing more than the clothes on his back, and the knife at his waist. As if somehow, the latter was the only thing that he had of value.

It was like he could just up and leave behind his whole life at the drop of a hat. And from what little he understood about Keith Kogane- he probably could.

Hell, he _had_. Even Shiro, steadfast and stalwart, would sometimes let it slip that he missed Earth. But Keith? It was like homesickness was a foreign concept to him, something which he could fathom in others, but never truly understand.

So Keith- _Kethe_?- actually wanting to have anything in the way of personal effects was... a good thing, right?

Maybe it meant that he wasn't going to leave, go back to the Blades at the first chance he got.

...okay, wow. He didn't even know he had been worried about that, until like, right this second. Sure, he hadn't actually _hated_ Keith since like, the food fight, but they'd never exactly gotten super close- but... yeah.

He kind of didn't want him to leave.

Not again, not after he'd just come back.

Sure, he'd come back to them purple and fluffy, but he'd _come back_.

He hadn't thought he would. He'd thought... he'd thought for the longest time that he was _dead_ , that the reason they never found him no matter how hard they looked was because he wasn't there to find, not anymore.

He should have tried harder to stop him from going through that door, to keep him from going after that druid. He had a chance to stop him, and he'd barely done _anything_. He didn't care what Shiro said- if he was dead, it would have been his fault.

But he was alive.

Oh thank god, he was _alive_.

It hadn't... he would have thought it would have hit him long before this, and it had, kind of? Back in the kitchen, when he had first stumbled across the Galra with Keith's face, it had been like seeing a ghost.

But the fact that he was actually _alive_ , somehow... somehow it had managed not to hit him until this exact moment.

He hadn't gotten his rival- his _friend_ \- killed.

"Lance?" Hunk's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "You okay dude?"

"I-" Lance blinked. "I- yeah, I'm fine Hunk. Just... just got lost in my own thoughts for a second there."

"So what," Keith barely even spared him a glance, too busy trying to decide if he wanted the red or the purple lava lamp, as if it made any difference, "-you had more than one thought?"

"Wow, Keith. _Wow_."

* * *

He bought both lava lamps.

There was probably some kind of symbolism in that, but damned if he knew what it meant. Literature had never been his best subject.

Besides, it was symbolism revolving around _lava lamps_ , so who cared.

(He did. He cared a lot. Damn you, Keith Kogane.)


	6. acxa side

So I wonder who guessed right about who the next perspective would belong to? This chapter covers the bulk of their encounters in season three, and ends there, leaving, of course, room for me to tinker with this verse in season four as I please in the future, should I choose to. Which I probably will, at some point. So as always, thanks for reading!

* * *

 **abyss of memory**

 **acxa side**

* * *

Getting stuck in a Weblum had not been in her plans.

Going _into_ a Weblum? Yes. Getting stuck there? No.

She had been zoning in and out of consciousness, when the sound of something loud impacting with her ship drew her out of it. It was impossible to say how long she had been there- not only had her ship's communications been damaged, but so had any form of keeping track of time.

The last thing she expected to come across here, in the belly of a Weblum, was another person. Yet that was exactly what had impacted with her ship- as she fluttered back into consciousness, she watched as the figure, clad in black armor unlike any she had seen before, took notice of her in the same way she did them.

In a thought process that seemed to take all of two seconds, the black clad figure reached behind its back, drawing a knife. Any surprise that she might have shown upon witnessing its transformation into a sword was safely concealed by the darkened tint of her enclosed helmet, much in the same way the stranger's face was concealed by a mask. The glowing eye holes, starkly purple against the black, gave it something of an eerie appearance.

"Don't move." The stranger's words were just loud enough for her to hear through her ship, and a second later, the sword was shoved into her cockpit, tearing away at it, cutting her free.

She didn't know who her savior was, but she clearly owed them her thanks.

The hand that was offered to her was clawed underneath their armor, she noted, taking it in her own. She barely had time to dwell on it, when she found herself being spun around, her blaster taken from her before she so much as had a chance to react.

Gritting her teeth, Acxa watched them, now fully on guard. It was her fault that she had lowered it to that extent, but she hadn't expected the same stranger who had just helped her to turn on her so suddenly.

"You're with the empire."

Ah, there it was. Holding up her hands, she narrowed her eyes, trying to gauge what their next move would be. There was malice in those words, carried past the vocal distortion that their mask seemed to give them.

The turn of phrase was an interesting one- most would simply observe her to be Galra. Gaze flickering downwards for a brief span, she took note of their tail, lavender fur bristled in alarm.

Was this stranger Galra themselves? Clearly not one loyal to the empire, if so.

Prince Lotor would be _very_ interested to hear that.

Provided she got out of here alive.

She didn't have long to dwell on the stranger, nor their allegiances. Judging from the way they spoke about the strange creatures that burst through the way he had come- _not_ _ **those**_ _things again_ \- they were likely nothing good. Pushing aside any other thoughts, she quickly chose a course of action, wasting no time in carrying it out.

Her ship was dead weight anyways, damaged and caught in the Weblum's tendrils as it was. As long as she could manage to escape the Weblum, she could get back into contact with the other generals by using the emergency distress beacon located in her own armor. She was unable to use it here- there was too much interference provided by the beast itself.

She made no move to speak to the stranger, no move to tell them her plan- the less she told them, the better.

Still, the meaning of her actions didn't fail to register with them. "You're turning this ship into a bomb?"

Leaping from the ship, she let her boosters carry her away from it- though not far enough quick enough to save her from the full force of the blast, sending her hurtling deeper into some other part of the Weblum. She couldn't help but wonder how it was that this job had fallen unto her- though she didn't doubt Prince Lotor needed the scaultrite for something important, the act of collecting it was even more vile than she had anticipated.

Quickly regaining her senses, she caught sight of three of the creatures out of the corner of her eye- clearly the blast hadn't taken them all out. On her feet before the stranger could recover, she rushed them, reclaiming her gun.

They took it as a hostile action, hand darting back to grip the sword- now once more a knife- that they had sheathed just before leaping off the ship. She paid it no mind, instead fixed on taking out the remaining creatures.

It took the stranger a span of a moment to understand that _they_ were not the one under attack. Hand dropping away from their blade, she felt wary eyes on her from underneath their mask. "...I guess you can keep your weapon."

As if she would allow it to be taken from her again.

Half snorting to herself, she holstered her blaster. Even if she couldn't see their face, their tail was like a gateway to their emotional state. In the empire, most of those born with tails would have had them docked at an early age- they would leave them too vulnerable as they grew older, so it was best to remove them while they could still adapt.

A child, she thought to herself. If they weren't a hybrid like herself, then they must have been a child.

The height alone was enough of an indicator. She was no towering giant herself, but the petite stature of the black clad figure could only be explained by three things- they were either a hybrid, a child, or had stunted their growth somehow.

Based upon how transparently their tail reflected their emotions, she was banking on _child_.

A child that appeared to be here for the same reasons she was. It only took her a moment to garner that they were looking for the third stomach, just as she was. Though she wanted to interject at multiple points, she kept her lips sealed- right now, they did not seem to suspect they shared the same mission- instead making their way to it through trial and error.

She did not expect to find someone already there, waiting for them.

Or, to be more exact, waiting for her companion.

They were _not_ Galra- unlike her own, their face was visible through their helmet, so she could tell that much right away. She tried and failed to place their planet of origin, which in and of itself, was worthy of note.

The Galra Empire was vast- but there were still pockets of free space, to which it had not yet spread. This alien, she thought, must have come from one of those worlds.

"Kethe!" The yellow clad one almost seemed relieved, which was noteworthy in and of itself. "You made it! We both made it!"

The black clad figure- _Kethe_ , she now knew his name was- allowed his tail to perk up at the sight of the yellow one.

Who then took notice of her.

"Who's your friend?"

"They're _not_ my friend." Kethe hissed, fur on his tail bristling once more, and she could feel their gaze upon her. "They're _empire_."

Even with the vocal distortion in place, mistrust was clear on his voice. Very much not with the empire, then.

The pair fell into hushed tones then, and she watched them with mild interest. If Kethe was against the empire, it was likely to conclude that the same could be said of the yellow one- whose name appeared to be _Hunk_ , from what she could overhear. Still, rebel or not, Kethe had saved her- and she was not about to repay the favor by doing something as crass as killing him, or his companion, the first chance that she got.

Besides, the three of them appeared to have a mutual goal- collecting scaultrite. If she worked together with them, she could accomplish her mission far easier and far faster than she would have alone.

Still, the presence of a Galra who spoke about the empire in such hostile tones was worthy of note. There had been whispers, rumors, that there was some kind of resistance within the ranks of the empire itself for a long time now. Most thought of it as a myth- the kind of story parents told their children at night, to give them a fright.

Perhaps it was not so much of a myth as first thought.

As for the yellow one... it was faint, but she knew there had been no mistaking what she had heard. The words _paladin_ and _Voltron_ had come up- and she was now beginning to understand that she was in the presence of one of the paladins of Voltron.

He was... _underwhelming_ , if she had to be honest.

She'd expected... she was uncertain as to _what_ , but perhaps something a little more than this, than some unknown race that was barely taller than the Galra child he was with.

They seemed to conclude that since she hadn't attacked them yet, it was safe to let her be. It was naive, truly, but they were correct in that she planned to do them no harm.

Needless bloodshed might be the way of the _rest_ of the Galra Empire, but it was _not_ Prince Lotor's way.

So when it did come time for her to betray them, she did nothing more than level her blaster at the child's head, holding it there long enough to take a bag of scaultrite for herself. He made no move to pursue her- likely prioritizing the overall success of his own mission over her.

Which was fine by her. She'd already wasted enough time in accomplishing her mission- the faster she could get back to Lotor and the others, the better.

* * *

That she had destroyed her ship and gotten stranded in the Weblum was not news that pleased the prince. She fully expected this, and had been prepared for it- he expected the most out of his generals, so any failure was treated harshly.

He did, however, look pleased that in spite of her mishaps, she had completed her mission. Turning over some of the scaultrite in his hands, he gazed at it with an expression that was nigh impossible for even her to read, other than it being one of interest.

The prince had many interests.

"I sense there is something more that you wish to tell me." Lotor observed, finally sparing her a glance. "I must say, I am rather interested to know where you acquired this storage device. It is not one of ours."

"I was not alone in the Weblum." Acxa told him, seeing no reason to mince words. "I encountered two individuals who I believe would be of interest to you, Lotor."

"Oh?" Inclining his brows, he took an apparent interest in her words, setting aside the scaultrite. "Then by all means, do tell."

"You are correct that the storage device is not one of ours." She began. "I believe it belongs to the paladins of Voltron."

Now that truly caught his interest, the prince leaning forward. "Now that _is_ of great interest to me. Do you mean to say that you met them? Two of the paladins?"

"Only one." Acxa told him. "Judging from his armor, I believe he was the yellow paladin. He appears to go by the name _Hunk_ , but I'm afraid I must confess I do not know what species he was. None that I've seen before."

"The yellow paladin." Lotor mused, leaning back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "And what of the other? You said you encountered two individuals in the Weblum."

"I believe the other was Galra, by the name of _Kethe_." Acxa told him. "Wearing armor the likes I have never seen before. He did not take kindly to me once he learned that I was with the empire."

Arching his brows, Lotor took that to mean exactly what she thought he would- that the whispers of there being some kind of resistance within the Galra ranks was more than mere rumor. To her, it would seem that her words confirmed something he had long since suspected.

The prince shared very little of his own thoughts with them.

"And yet they let you live?" Lotor inquired.

"Yes. I likely would not be here, if not for the Galra rebel." Acxa informed him. "He freed me from my damaged ship."

"Before he knew you were with the empire, I take it?" Lotor observed.

"Yes." Giving him a curt nod of her head, Acxa frowned. "I apologize for making no move to detain either of them, but I thought it best I complete my mission first and foremost."

"There is no need for that." Lotor told her, rising to his feet. "Just the knowledge you have brought me has value in and of itself. You say they were also collecting scaultrite?"

"A vast amount of it." Acxa said. "What do you think they plan to use it for?"

"That I cannot say." Lotor admitted. "But it would seem that things might become _very_ interesting in the near future. Perhaps we may even find ourselves called back to Central Command, if all goes well."

Lifting her brows, she did not miss the unspoken undertone to his words- by _if all goes well_ , he surely meant, _should the paladins' plan succeed_. There was much that she did not understand about Prince Lotor and his motivations, but if there was one thing that she knew for a fact, it was that he was tired of his father's iron grip on the throne.

And that he'd been tired for a very long time now.

His father's defeat, she sensed, was something he very much desired.

* * *

Just as Lotor predicted, it was not long before they found themselves back at Central Command.

 _Emperor pro tem_ of the Galra Empire, though she knew that he sought more. Without the Kral Zera, he would be unable to assume full control of the empire, but the fact that he had been called to serve in place of his father meant that likely, Emperor Zarkon was not yet dead, merely incapacitated.

That Voltron had managed to do even _that_ caught Lotor's interest, in a way that could not be missed. So it came as no surprise to her- nor any of her fellow generals, when he expressed an interest in learning more about them for himself.

"There is something I wish to confirm for myself."

He said no more than that, but it was with those words that a plan was set in motion. Taking back two of the planets freed of Galra control by the paladins was a simple matter, and drawing them out was an even simpler one.

They split their forces, forcing Voltron to do very much the same. While she remained by Lotor's side, alongside Zethrid, Narti and Ezor had been tasked with taking on a separate quadrant. They would record their findings, and present them back to Lotor once they regrouped.

"Now remember, we merely intend to observe for today." Lotor told them. "There is something I yet need the paladins for, so it would be a shame if we were to defeat them here and now."

Zethrid grumbled at it, as she always did when denied using the sort of force she wished. She merely watched, gaze fixed on the trio of lions doing battle with their fighters. Blue, yellow, and _red_.

Lotor, she noticed, had seemed very pleased to see the red lion.

He split his attention well, her prince. One part was fixed on the battle raging outside, and the other fixed on the screen before him. Her gaze flickering down towards it, she noted that it seemed to be playing recovered footage from another one of Voltron's battles- from when they had taken back Olkarion, if she wasn't mistaken.

He seemed to have a very express interest in the red lion.

She would have thought for sure that the lion that would have caught his interest would be the _black_ one. It was the one his father had piloted in the past- before the war with Altea began, before the black lion had been hidden from him.

"What is it that interests you so?" She found herself asking.

"Do you not see it?" Lotor asked, looking quite pleased with himself. "Whoever is piloting the red lion in this footage is clearly not the same person that is piloting it now."

Frowning, she studied the footage playing on the screen, before turning her attention back towards the battle. With her attention focused on it, she could tell that indeed, its movements were different, more natural, more _instinctive_ , one might say.

"Could they not have simply improved?" She asked.

"No, I do not believe this is a matter of mere improvement." Lotor told her, leaning back in his chair, seeming satisfied. "Zethrid, I think we've gathered enough data for one day. Time to retreat."

Her fellow general grumbled, doing nothing to mask her displeasure. Still, she did as he said, turning the ship around and making a jump into hyperspeed before the lions could pursue.

"You believe the pilot of the red lion was replaced." Acxa observed.

"Oh no, not replaced." Lotor told her, bringing up another screen, this time with new footage. A Balmera, she recognized, watching as the screen once more focused in on the red lion.

Narrowing her eyes, she watched the footage play out, glancing between it, and the footage taken from Olkarion. Not only were the movements in the former different from the latter, but they more closely matched those of the red lion in the most recent battle.

"Now, looking between these three, which would you say was the odd one out?" Lotor inquired.

"The second." She replied, a tight frown on her lips. "This battle on the Balmera, and the battle just now... the same person was piloting the red lion both times."

"Indeed." Lotor told her, lifting his brows. "Which begs the question- why was someone _else_ piloting the red lion in the middle?"

She didn't have an answer to that.

* * *

She found her answer, in the most unexpected of places.

The mission was not one in which she expected much interference- certainly not from the paladins of Voltron. She _certainly_ hadn't expected to find them on their ship, in the hangar bay where they kept the fighter that Lotor had constructed using the comet's ore, at that.

Yet here they were, all lined up. Black, blue, yellow, green, and _red_.

It was Lotor's interest in the red paladin that drew her attention towards him, barely so much as skimming over the rest. She didn't need to take a close look to recognize that they were all of the same species- _humans_ , she had since learned they were called.

But among their number, there was one that didn't fit.

When she met his eyes, blaster locked into position by the back of their sword, she looked back into those of a Galra. More so even than her own, for his were devoid of pupil, glowing softly in the dim light of the hangar.

The red paladin, she realized, was _Galra_.

Their clash was broken by Ezor, and their targets changed. She did not, however, miss the flash of surprise on her fellow general's face as she recognized the same thing she did.

She found herself keeping half an eye on the Galra paladin, there being something else about him that seemed to bother her. Perhaps it was the height. He had the height of a juvenile, but his facial features were too defined to be that of one- a hybrid then, of some type, though one more visibly Galra than herself.

Or any of her fellow generals, for that matter.

It wasn't until she caught sight of his tail, fur bristled and raised, that she made the connection.

This was the Galra from the Weblum.

Indeed, the closer she looked, the more it became obvious they were the same. The armor they were clad in was as different as night and day- trading black armor made for stealth for the white and red armor of a paladin. But it was not merely the tail- the braid of black hair, looped around his neck to prevent it from becoming a hazard, was very much the same.

The red paladin was Galra.

The red paladin was with the Blade of Marmora.

Faintly, she heard someone call out a name- _Keith_ , the black paladin had said, and she watched as the red one responded to it. For the span of a moment, she wondered if he had merely mispronounced his name, before she dismissed that possibility.

The black paladin was the _Champion_ , the former gladiator who had spent a year in the empire's custody before escaping. She doubted that he would make such an error.

Lotor, she decided, would be very interested in this.

* * *

She was starting to think that the rebel Galra was a bad omen.

Kethe, _Keith_ , whichever was truly his name- both times she had met the red paladin face to face, she'd failed. She had braced herself for Lotor's disappointment in her, but the impact was all the same.

It was Ezor who let the bit about there being a Galra paladin slip first.

"Really now?" Lotor asked, taking an apparent interest. "Which color?"

"Red." Acxa supplied. "And he is the same Galra I met in the Weblum."

"You are certain of this?" Lotor asked.

"Certain." She told him, giving him a firm nod of her head. "Though he was wearing the Blade of Marmora's armor then, his build is the same."

"So the red paladin is a member of the Blade of Marmora." Lotor observed. "It still does not explain where he went."

Nor why he had been clad not in the red paladin's armor at the time, but in that of the Blade of Marmora. The former would have been a much better choice for the Weblum than the latter, Acxa noted.

She didn't need to voice such concerns aloud, for she knew Lotor had likely already thought of them himself.

"Is there more footage from the Balmera?" Acxa questioned, unsure what prompted her to ask. "According to the records I read, Commander Prorok attempted to spring a trap on the paladins there, by luring them down to the surface."

She had done her reading after her earlier exchange with Lotor. Knowing one's enemy was key.

"Yes, I believe there might be." Lotor's tone was casual, betraying nothing as he brought up a screen, typing away until he found what he was looking for. "You wish to see if we can find the red paladin on it."

"It may shed some light." Acxa told him.

"Yes, you may be right about that." Lotor remarked. "The red paladin has not been seen since the defeat of my father- only his lion. It _does_ seem curious that rumors would not have spread by now, if the red paladin were truly Galra."

"He's got a point." Ezor said.

"They're likely hiding him because they don't want people to know he's Galra." Acxa observed. "Out of fear of losing the trust of this _Coalition_ they're trying to build."

"Knowing that one of their so-called _defenders of the universe_ was of the same race that has kept them under their feet for so long would likely create a bad impression, yes." Lotor observed, his tone detached, as if he were not speaking of his own people. "Ah, here we are."

"It would seem you were right to have me check the footage further, Acxa." Lotor said, shifting the screen so that they all could see it. "For it would seem I have discovered something _very_ interesting."

She recognized at once the red and white armor displayed on the screen- but its occupant took a moment longer to place. The one caught in the still image was not Galra, but rather was _human_. Pale skin, violet pupils, and nary a trace of a tail in sight.

It was the black color of the hair that struck her first- and the shape of the nose that struck her the second. Though she had only locked into a stalemate with him for a short time, she prided herself on her memory, dredging up the still fresh image of the red paladin she had witnessed just before.

"You seem to have realized something." Lotor observed.

She sensed he had come to the same conclusion himself, but was merely waiting for her to say it out loud.

"They possess the same features." She told him. "The Galra red paladin, and this more human one."

"So, what, are they like, the same person?" Ezor ventured. "Cause I'm pretty sure Galra don't shapeshift. Can humans shapeshift?"

"No." Lotor remarked. "Which means that whatever changed his appearance into what it is now, it must have been unnatural."

For the span of a moment, he said nothing further.

"Narti," he said finally, breaking the silence that had fallen over the bridge, "...why don't we check and see what Zarkon's witch has been up to lately."

It was a statement, Acxa realized- not a question.


	7. human side

Hello, hello, back at it again with another two part update! Time for the care and keeping of one (1) sick Keith, soon to be followed by the attempts of two (2) aliens, and one (1) amnesiac half-alien attempting to take care of four sick humans, because if there's one things colds tend to do, it's spread. This one turned out pretty long, and I'm overall pretty pleased with the turnout, so hopefully y'all enjoy it just as much as I do!

Until next time!

* * *

 **abyss of memory**

 **human side**

* * *

Ugh.

He had known something was off when he went to bed yesterday, but he had expected that a good's night rest would deal with it. Instead, when he finally managed to pull himself out of bed, he quickly determined that he was _worse_ than when he'd gone to sleep last night.

His fur was damp with sweat, unbraided hair clinging to his back. He could barely even feel his tail, which hung limp behind him, just as unmotivated as he felt.

Placing a hand against his forehead, uncertain of why he was doing it, Kethe's lips twisted into a frown. He felt... _warm_. Warmer than he should.

Slumping back in his bed, he racked his brain, trying to think of what could have caused this. Yesterday's mission had been a normal one- they had liberated a planet, he'd lurked behind in the red lion while the other paladins played diplomat, Hunk had snuck him some food from the celebratory banquet...

Jolting to awareness, he sprung to his feet- and instantly regretted it, the world swimming before him. Grunting, he clutched the wall, managing to brace himself with it before he completely fell over.

Drawing in a haggard breath, Kethe took a step forward, stumbling on uncertain feet. He hadn't been this graceless since the addition of his tail, but he forced himself to stagger forward, trying to still the pounding of his heart.

Had he been poisoned? That was the only logical explanation for what was going on now. He didn't think Hunk would feed him poisoned food, so it must have been slipped into the food beforehand.

Pressing his hand against the door panel, he stumbled out, wincing at the bright lights of the corridor. For them to be this bright, it must have been well into the day cycle- just how long had he slept?

Shaking that thought off, he tried to focus his thoughts, which proved hard to do. If he'd been poisoned, had the other paladins been affected? Or was it a targeted attack against him? Racking his brain, he tried to recall if there had been any rumors about there being a Galra paladin, but couldn't recall any.

He had to... he had to get to the med bay. No, first he had to- was everyone else okay? Galra were hardy, he didn't know how the human immune system would take to poison. Would it even have an effect? What about the princess?

"Keith?"

In his half dazed state, his human name barely registered with him- it was only when the person who called out to him repeated it, that he realized he was being spoken to. Slowly turning his head, he squinted, trying to recall who this person was.

Eyes falling on the prosthetic arm, he slowly blinked. Right, this was the... this was Shiro, the black paladin. Voltron's leader.

"Shiro?" Kethe ventured, his voice weak.

He seemed fine, so maybe he hadn't been poisoned? Maybe it was just him, then.

(Better it be just him.)

There was a rush of concern in those human features of his- the ease with which he had picked up reading human facial cues was perhaps hint that he used to be one himself. They weren't like the Galra, who were stoic as a general rule, instead with animated expressions and large reactions.

Regris had once told him that he expressed himself similarly, but he didn't know if that was true or not.

Whatever the case, Shiro was on him in what felt like seconds. Bracing his shoulder with his prosthetic hand, he reached out with his human hand, brushing it under his bangs and pressing it against his forehead.

And then let out a long sigh, almost sounding exasperated. "You're sick, aren't you?"

Blinking, Kethe peered up at him. Maybe Regris was right, because the human picked up on his puzzlement right away.

Sick? He knew the word, he just didn't expect it to be applied to _him_. He had been taught a lot during his time with the Blade of Marmora, about the Galra. Few pathogens had any effect on them, so a sick Galra was cause for outright panic.

He was just about to convey that when his own mouth and nose betrayed him, expelling air and some kind of strange substance. Feeling his heart pound in his chest, he must have looked as panicked as he felt, because Shiro braced him with both hands.

"I'm guessing Galra don't sneeze." He observed, a wry smile on his face.

Kethe stared up at him, his brow furrowing. "Sneeze?"

"What you just did." Shiro told him. "Come on, let's get you to the med bay. Do you want to lean on me? No offense, but you're pretty unsteady on your feet."

Kethe didn't fight it, instead letting Shiro loop one of his arms around his shoulder, using his hand to brace his waist. It made walking easier, if not embarrassing. He hadn't been babied like this since Ulaz had first rescued him.

"Is sneezing a human thing?" Kethe ventured, feeling his panic subside a little at the casual way Shiro was treating this. It was easy for him to forget sometimes, easier than he'd like to admit, that he was also human.

To what degree still, he didn't know.

"Yeah, pretty much." Shiro told him. "I'm guessing you caught a cold."

Kethe frowned at that. "But I'm not cold?"

"Lava lamps." Shiro said- it took a moment for it to click, his head swimming.

Oh. Just a name, then.

There was something reassuring, he thought, about the paladins _not_ having all the answers about Earth. That he knew nothing about the planet that he had been born and raised on bothered him more than he wanted to admit, feeling that he should at least have _those_ memories, if nothing else.

But if the witch had wanted to reprogram him into a loyal solider of the empire, like he suspected she did, he wouldn't have needed them.

Earth was one aspect of his past that he felt comfortable talking about- to a degree. He still didn't know what a _Galaxy Garrison_ was, nor a _foster system_ , all phrases that he had heard mentioned but realized connected in some deeper way to who he was before.

He should, some part of him knew. It had been two months since he had started living on the Castle of Lions- _again_ \- and he couldn't keep avoiding the subject forever. Admitting to Allura that he didn't remember what it was like to be human had been a significant step, but since then he had made no further efforts to open up, nor to ask.

Eventually, he thought, they'd run out of patience with him.

"Keith?" Shiro's voice broke him out of his thoughts. "You okay? You kind of went quiet there."

"I- yeah, just thinking." Kethe told hm.

Shiro didn't press- if there was one thing he had come to understand about the black paladin, it was that he had a seemingly infinite well of patience.

(Unless he was dealing with _Slav_ , but that he could understand.)

"Well don't get too lost in your own thoughts." Shiro told him. "We're here, by the way."

Glancing up, Kethe realized with a blink that they were. He must have zoned out more than he thought. "I- thanks for bringing me here."

He had to avert his gaze, unable to help but feel like the fond smile directed towards him wasn't actually _for_ him. He didn't need to ask to know that they had been close, before- _like brothers_ , he had heard one of the paladins let slip.

How did it feel to have someone he viewed as a brother forget him?

He had _tried_ to remember after that- but all it got him was a headache. To him, Shiro was still just someone he'd met only two months ago- someone he had come to respect as a leader, but didn't think anything more of.

Even though he _should_. And the guilt was overwhelming.

"Come on, let's get you settled." Shiro's voice broke him from his thoughts once more, and he bit his lip, hoping that he didn't notice him sinking into them again. "I'm pretty sure you just have a cold, but I'll get Coran just in case."

Nodding his head, Kethe allowed Shiro to navigate him to an exam table, helping prop him up on it, careful of his tail. He didn't care for being in the med bay, but it wasn't as bad as it had once been.

It was so strange, being traumatized by something he couldn't even remember.

"Wait here." Shiro told him. "I'll be right back."

Watching him go, Kethe merely glanced down at his hands, clawed and purple, and wondered if he'd ever stop feeling like an imposter.

* * *

"Ah, Number Four!"

Startled, Kethe snapped to attention. He must have zoned out again, he dimly realized. He wasn't sure for how long- long enough for Shiro to find and fetch Coran, at the very least. Gaze flickering towards him, he didn't miss the way he didn't catch it.

Not that he could blame him. He knew it was hard for them to pick out just what he was looking at.

"Number One here tells me that you're feeling a bit put out." Coran's voice was calm, but it didn't do much for his nerves.

Shiro might not have acted like it was a big deal, but for him, being sick still equaled _dying_. Clearly it was different for humans, but how much of him was still _human_ , really?

"That's one way of putting it." Kethe mumbled, pressing a hand to his forehead. "I feel like I'm burning up."

"I'll be sure to give you something for fever, then." Coran noted. "Might I take your temperature?"

Lowering his hand, he nodded his head. Watching as the Altean man worked out of the corner of his eye, he didn't fail to notice how he never quite left his line of vision. It reminded him of his first time here- how he had always made an effort to be seen. He hadn't thought much of it at the time, but now he couldn't shake the feeling that it was being done for his benefit.

Coran was... different than Allura, he thought. In a lot of ways, but most markedly in his attitude towards him. They had met before, of course, when he had first been brought to the castle-ship with Kolivan and Antok, but it had been the first time he'd met the man since becoming aware he was _Keith_.

The Altean hadn't even blinked.

 _"Guess you're not quite Number Four_ _anymore now are you?"_

(He had them ranked by height, apparently. Lance had raised such a stink at being demoted that Coran had caved and gone back to the old ranking.)

Withdrawing the thermometer, Coran let out a low hum. "Well your temperature is certainly elevated, but mostly within a safe range. Shiro tells me you have something called a cold!"

Gaze flickering back towards Shiro, he seemed to catch it this time, giving him a faint smile. Turning back towards Coran, Kethe could only frown. "If that's what Shiro says, I guess...?"

Coran caught his eye, reaching out to pat his knee. "Ah, I can understand why you'd be nervous. But it's not uncommon for hybrids to catch illness associated with both of their bloodlines!"

"And from the sound of it," Coran continued, "...you'll be good as new with a bit of rest."

"And fluids." Shiro added.

"Yes, that too." Coran said. "Now, how about I give you something for that fever? We certainly don't want it to get any higher!"

"So this _cold_ ," Kethe began, pausing to let out another one of those strange _sneezes_ , as Shiro had called them, "-it's nothing to worry about?"

"It's pretty common back on Earth." Shiro told him. "I'm a little _concerned_ as to how you caught one out here, but you should be fine."

Shoulders slumping at that, Kethe finally felt himself exhale, as if he'd been holding his breath the whole time. Okay, so... not dying, that was good.

"Right, well!" Coran interjected. "If you will, Number Four."

Blinking, he realized that Coran was offering him a pill bottle, along with a pouch of water. Taking both from him, he glanced down at the bottle, scanning its label. It was printed in Common, rather than Altean, and he had to wonder if it was on purpose.

He was making an effort, he realized, to put him at ease.

"Thanks, Coran." Kethe told him- and he meant it, uncorking the bottle and taking two of the pills, washing them down with water. The water felt so good in his throat, that he promptly drained the rest of the pouch.

He hadn't even realized how _dry_ his throat had been until just now. Guess that was what Shiro had meant by needing fluids.

"Think nothing of it!" Coran told him. "Now, you can either rest here, or back in your quarters. The choice is yours."

"Quarters." Kethe said hurriedly. The less time spent in the med bay, the better.

"Not a problem." Shiro spoke up, crossing the room. "Come on, I'll help you back."

Nodding his head, Kethe allowed Shiro to help him down from the table. Once he had braced him again, they started back towards his room, Shiro keeping his pace slow and steady, so that it was easy to match it.

Now _he_ was the one who looked lost in thought, Kethe noticed.

Maybe it was about him, he thought. If they had been like brothers, then Shiro must have known him for a long time- maybe he'd taken care of him when he'd been sick before. Was he acting different? The same? Part of him wanted to know, but part of him was afraid to ask.

"I'll tell Allura you're not up to training today." Shiro told him finally. "You just focus on getting rest."

Nodding his head, Kethe couldn't help but study the black paladin's features, hoping that something would leap out to him. If there was a sense of familiarity there, it was only because he had gotten to know him over the past two months, nothing more.

Gaze dropping back down to his feet, he felt his brow furrow. He tried not to dwell on his lost memory, having vowed to move forward with or without them- that was what his entire trial had been about. And yet...

Maybe it was just because he was sick. His mind was taking him to places he'd rather not be.

"You know," Shiro spoke again, and he didn't miss the subtle shift in his tone, unable to place it for a moment, "...they say colds can be caused by stress."

Ah. That was _worry_ , then.

"I know your situation is complicated, Keith," Shiro began, his tone becoming gentler as he spoke, "...but you know we're all here for you, right? So if you're feeling stressed, you can always come talk to us."

"I-" Kethe began, before shutting his mouth, narrowing his eyes. He didn't know what to say to that.

He still didn't understand how they could be so _patient_ with him.

"I know there's things you'd rather not talk about just yet," Shiro told him, and he found himself torn between wanting to look up, and keeping his gaze rooted to the floor, "-but I just want you to know that you can take all the time you need."

"What if it's-" Kethe began, voice hesitant, not daring to look up, "-what if that's _never_?"

"Well," Shiro said, as if that was that, "-then I guess it'll be never."

Blinking, Kethe finally dared to look up- he didn't know what kind of expression he'd been expecting, but a _smile_ wasn't one of them.

Dropping his gaze away, he chewed his lip, before lightly pushing Shiro away. There wasn't any strength behind it, not that he had much to give at the moment. "I can- I can make it from here, Shiro."

"You sure?" Shiro asked, and he didn't dare say anything, only nodding his head. "Okay then. I'll send Hunk by with some food later."

"Yeah." He managed. "Thanks."

* * *

He must have been dozing off, because the sound of his door sliding open startled him awake, reaching for his knife in his daze.

It was only once he realized who it was, that he allowed himself to relax. Hunk, for his part, looked almost apologetic. "Aw, didn't mean to wake you, Keith."

Why hadn't he been able to smell him? Twitching his nose, his answer came in the form of clogged nostrils, causing him to grimace. That would explain that.

"S'okay." Kethe said, propping himself up in bed.

"Shiro told me you caught a cold." Hunk told him, making his way into the room, now that he was cleared to be in it. "I wanted to make you some chicken noodle soup, or well, the closest thing I can get to chicken noodle soup without having access to _actual chickens_ , but you'd probably be healthy by the time the broth finished, so I opted for something a little faster instead."

Faintly, Kethe thought he could hear his stomach growl. Placing a hand over it, he frowned, before peering up towards Hunk.

"No, yeah, I get it buddy." Hunk told him. "How's your fever?"

Frowning, Kethe pressed his hand against his forehead, brows knitting together. "The same, I think? Is it supposed to be better?"

"A little too soon for that." Hunk remarked, presenting him the tray. "It's a bit hot, so be careful."

Frowning down at the food that had been offered to him, Kethe felt his nose crinkle up. Whatever it was, it didn't look appetizing. "What is this?"

"Porridge!" Hunk told him. "Now I know it doesn't look like much, but it does a sick body good, I promise."

Frowning, Kethe watched him with a slightly suspicious gaze. Did being sick mean that he had to eat unappetizing foods? One thing he'd learned about Hunk was that he was _amazing_ in the kitchen- he'd been teaching him so much about Earth food lately, and yet it always seemed there was more left to learn.

So this was... staring down at it, he squinted, like he half expected it to attack him. Well, Hunk hadn't let him down before, so...

Hesitantly reaching for the spoon, Kethe scooped up some of the so-called porridge. Blowing on it, he decided to take the plunge, getting it over with.

Only to blink, a spark flashing through his golden eyes. "It's good."

He could hear Hunk let out a breath of relief, though he didn't understand why. If he could make something that looked as unappetizing as this taste good, then he clearly had nothing to worry about.

Gaze flickering over towards the yellow paladin, he studied him in the same way he had done Shiro. From what he had been able to gather, they didn't know each other as well- and at times, that made it easier for him to deal with.

Less to be compared to.

Hunk had let it slip once, that he'd known who he was, ever since he'd spoken to him on the way back from the Weblum. It was his voice, he'd said- his voice was the same.

He'd have to take his word for it.

He'd also been the one to show him his human face, but he didn't hold it against him. He hadn't done it on purpose, and it was clear that he had felt guilty about it afterwards. It was going to happen at some point, with the paladin bond being the way it was, so maybe it was just better that it had come out sooner, rather than later.

He still didn't know what to make of the image, though. He'd only seen it once, but it had left such a strong impression on him, that he couldn't forget it if he tried.

Hunk wasn't much of one for silence, he'd since learned. Even now, he filled it with chatter- talking about how he had made the porridge, versus how he would make it on Earth. He found it interesting, always curious to learn more about his forgotten home planet- to the extent that it didn't involve _him_.

"-when we go back to Earth, I can show you-"

"-back to Earth?" Kethe cut him off, setting down his spoon.

Hunk blinked, and he didn't know if it was because he hadn't expected to be interrupted, or if he just hadn't been sure if he was listening. "I mean... yeah? Don't you want to go back home?"

It seemed to he realized his mistake no sooner than the question had left his mouth, judging from the way he winced.

"...do you think I can?" Kethe asked, hesitant.

Clearly very glad that he hadn't offended him, Hunk let out a breath. "I mean, yeah, why not?"

Arching a brow, Kethe merely flicked his tail, not breaking eye contact with him.

"Ah." Hunk said. "Yeah, that... that might be a problem, but hey- maybe by the time we get back, Earth'll know about the existence of aliens?"

"Wouldn't that be more of a problem?" Kethe asked. "I'm Galra."

Hunk winced at that, chewing on his lip. "It might complicate things." He admitted. "But its your home too, Keith."

"How can it be my home if I don't even remember it?" Kethe asked.

"I mean... yeah, that's true, but..." Hunk trailed off. "Where _is_ home for you, then?"

Kethe contemplated the question, half not expecting it. "The Blade of Marmora," he told him, and he didn't miss the way Hunk's shoulders seemed to sag, "-and here."

And at that, Hunk perked right up.

"Aw, Keith!" Clasping his hands together, the warm smile on his face was almost blinding. "You know, this place has started to feel like home to me too."

At that, Kethe turned to face him, brow furrowing. "But you _have_ a home. I've heard you talk about it."

"Well... yeah." Hunk said, nodding his head. "But a person can have more than one home, you know."

He wasn't sure why, but the words stuck with him.

* * *

A rough hand, cool against a warm forehead.

The sensation tugged him into awareness, far less frenzied than his earlier awakening had been. Blinking awake, Kethe struggled to make sense of his surroundings, something flickering just beyond his vision before settling back into his quarters on the castle-ship.

The first thing he took note of was the fact that someone's hand was indeed pressed up against his forehead.

The second thing was that it couldn't possibly be the same hand that had tugged him into waking. It had been rough, calloused, large- all things that Pidge's hands were not.

It was with a jolt that he realized what it had been. Bolting straight up, Kethe's eyes went wide, pressing his own hand up against his forehead, trying to drag out the sensation again.

"Whoa, Keith!" Hovering just outside of the edge of his vision, Pidge frowned. "You okay there?"

Pulling his hand away from his forehead, he couldn't tell if it was because of this cold that his thoughts were swimming, or if that would have happened anyways. Drawing in a breath, it hitched in his throat, coming out in a fit that he had learned was called _coughing_.

Feeling Pidge's hand on the small of his back, she gave it a few pats. "You need some water?"

Slowly nodding his head, Kethe watched as she drew away, grabbing the pitcher from off the table. He tried and failed to remember when it had been placed there- he was more out of it than he'd thought.

Gratefully taking the offered cup, he gulped it down, cool liquid good against his dry throat. Closing his eyes, he pressed his head up against the wall, trying to sort his own thoughts.

It hadn't been much more than a faint sensation, sure, but he knew. That had been a _memory_ \- or at least, a fragment of one.

Something from _before_.

He knew from his trial that his mind still carried the faintest imprints, _afterimages_ , of what had been taken from him. None of them left a strong impression on him, and he couldn't drag them out if he tried. Forcing it just made his head hurt.

But this?

This had been the closest thing he'd had to a _memory_ ever since he had woken up on that prison ship, with no knowledge of who he was.

It was there- there was actually something _there_. Pressing a hand up against his mouth, he nearly forgot Pidge was still in the room with him, until he heard her let out a squeak.

"Wha- Keith, are you _crying_?"

Blinking, Kethe reached up a hand, feeling something _wet_ underneath his eyes. Drawing his hand away, he frowned, trying to make sense of it. Galra did not have tear ducts- they had a third eyelid to protect their eyes, so it wasn't necessary.

Apparently he did.

"Oh man, Shiro didn't say anything about _crying_." He caught Pidge mutter underneath her breath, and finally, he forced himself to pay attention to her. Gaze fixing on her face, he frowned, making note of the frantic look in her eyes.

"M'fine, Pidge." He told her, letting out a breath. "Just... thought I remembered something."

"Oh, that's all." Pidge said, her shoulders slumping in relief- before she realized the meaning of those words, eyes going wide. "Wha- you _remembered_!?"

Before he could stop her, she clasped his hands in her own, heedless of how damp his fur was with sweat. "Tell me _everything_."

Blinking, Kethe opened and closed his mouth. He didn't expect her to be _this_ excited about it- from what he could gather, among the paladins, she was the one who had known him the least. He felt the most at ease with her because of this, at times simply lurking around the green lion's hangar, watching her work.

He had assumed that because they hadn't known each other well, that his memory loss affected her the least. Had he maybe been wrong about that?

"Just- just hands. _A_ hand." Kethe told her after a moment. "Against my forehead."

Drawing away from him, for a brief span, he almost thought she was disappointed- before she gave a knowing look, folding her arms in front of her. "A tactile memory, then."

"Tactile...?" Kethe trailed off, tilting his head.

" _Haptic memory_ , to be exact." Pidge told him, adjusting her glasses, ones that he knew she didn't need. There was a story behind that, but he hadn't learned it yet. "It's your memory in relation to touch stimuli."

"So that was a...?"

Pidge nodded her head. "Probably. Which _does_ seem to suggest that perhaps the witch's memory erasure wasn't as complete as first suspected. Likely fragments remain behind, you just can't access them under normal circumstances."

She paused then, drumming a finger against her chin. "What _does_ happen when you try to remember?"

"Headache." Kethe told her. "Bad one."

Letting out a low hum, Pidge plopped down on the bed next to him, without even asking first. He'd noticed that about her- it was kind of reassuring to see a human pay so little attention to human social cues, especially since he was still trying to establish most of them for himself.

"So hands." Pidge said. "Know whose?"

Shaking his head, Kethe merely frowned. "No."

"Probably not Shiro's?" She asked.

Thinking it over, he shook his head. Shiro's hands hadn't been that calloused or that rough. "They felt really large, so maybe I was really small...?"

"Maybe your father?" Pidge ventured.

Frowning, Kethe pressed his hand up against his forehead again, dragging out the sensation once more. It came a second time, just as easy as the first. "I don't know. Maybe?"

Shrugging her shoulders, Pidge seemed satisfied with that. "Good enough. And hey, all you had to do was catch a cold in the middle of space!"

"Not sure if it was worth it." Kethe frowned, dropping his hand. "I feel like shit."

"You _look_ like shit." Pidge supplied, brushing off his glower with ease. "Just saying."

"Why are you here anyways?" Kethe asked.

"Checking up on my fellow arm." She told him, making a show of flexing her left. "How _are_ you feeling? Coran said your fever's gone down."

Kethe blinked at that, wondering when Coran had even _been_ here. "Better, I guess?"

"Good, good." Pidge nodded. "Kolivan contacted us while you were sleeping. We told him you were sick, and he nearly flipped."

She must have been able to sense his doubt, because she gave him a shrug of her shoulders. "Okay, so he didn't _actually_ flip, but he did _react_ , which is more than you can get out of him usually."

"For Galra, illness is usually fatal." Kethe told her.

"Yeah, so we've been told." Pidge said, cringing a little. "What did you think when you woke up this morning, that you were dying?"

Letting out a snort, Kethe ran a hand through his hair. "I thought I'd been poisoned."

"Why would you be...?" Pidge began, before closing her mouth. "The banquet."

Kethe merely shrugged. "It's a possibility."

She didn't look like she was going to refute him, but she didn't look comfortable with it either. "You really think they might try to poison you because you're Galra?"

"We're not exactly popular." Kethe told her.

She couldn't refute that either, but seemed to like it even less. "Give it time. They haven't exactly had the best impression of the Galra."

He knew. He had seen the looks that the Blade of Marmora earned firsthand- of suspicion, mistrust, the feeling of them clearly not being wanted there. It bothered him, but he tried to not let it show- they were fighting _for_ them, the _least_ they could do is tolerate their presence.

Gaze flickering towards Pidge, he frowned. "Does it ever bother you?"

"What, their reactions?" Pidge blinked.

"No." Shaking his head, Kethe narrowed his eyes. "Me."

Opening her mouth to say something, Pidge quickly shut it. "You were Galra when you left us, you just didn't look it. So no."

"You sure didn't act that way after the Balmera." Kethe observed.

To her credit, she barely even flinched. "I didn't know it was _you_. I thought... I thought the red lion rejecting Allura and accepting you meant that well, _you_ were dead."

"And that now you'd have to deal with working with a Galra?" Kethe asked, not dropping his gaze this time. "You can be honest with me, Pidge."

"I- fine, I'll admit it, I didn't like it at the time." Pidge sighed, slumping back like this wasn't _his_ bed. "But even if you weren't _you_ , I'd have gotten used to it. But you _are_ you, so it doesn't matter."

Gaze flickering downwards, he twitched his tail, shifting it so that the tip of it rested on top of her face. It earned the reaction he wanted, the green paladin sputtering, jolting up, glowering at him. "Gross, Keith. Why is your tail so _damp_?"

"I'm _sick_." Kethe reminded her. "It's sweat."

"If you wanted me to move, you could have just said so." Pidge told him, pushing herself off his bed. "How about you stop asking weird questions and get some rest."

Grumbling a little, Kethe nevertheless flopped back against his bed, closing his eyes. His tail, more lively than it was earlier in the day, draped itself over his torso.

"To be fair," he added, "-I didn't know it was me either."

Letting out a faint snort, Pidge flicked his forehead. " _Goodnight_ , Keith."

* * *

"Rise and shine, Keith, it's time to do something about your stench!"

Groaning, Kethe actually contemplated going for his knife, if only to fling it, sheath and all, at Lance's face. He had since learned that the blue paladin wasn't much of one for subtlety, but he could damn well afford a lesson or two in it.

Rolling over on his side, his tail flicking out of the way, Kethe glowered at Lance without getting up. He could breathe a little better now, thank god, but his sense of smell was still shot. Still, he didn't think he _stunk_.

"I don't stink." Kethe muttered, eying the large basin Lance had dragged in with him.

"You smell like a wet cat Keith. Now get up, you bum." Lance told him, setting the basin down. "Pidge told me you're covered in sweat."

"S'fine." Kethe mumbled. "Water'll just make me more damp."

"I'll dry you off, dumbass." Lance told him, jerking his head to the side to indicate a mound of towels and a device that he had since learned was called a _hairdryer_. "Now get your fuzzy purple butt up, we need to change your sheets too."

Groaning, Kethe pushed himself up into a sitting position. "I can take care of myself, Lance."

"Nope, no arguments from the sick." Lance told him, voice stern as he rolled up his sleeves. "Off with the shirt now."

Grumbling, Kethe glowered at him for a moment longer, before he did what was asked. The entire thing was damp with sweat, his fur sticking to it. Some part of him was tempted to just chuck it at Lance's face, but he fought the urge, instead tossing it on the same pile that Lance had made with his sheets.

Watching with one eye as Lance crouched in front of the basin, grabbing a washcloth and dipping it in, squeezing off the excess moisture, Kethe frowned. He didn't see what the big deal was- he could just wash up later, when he was feeling better.

"Listen, I'm not wild about this idea either," Lance began, getting to his feet, "-but it was either me or Allura, and I was not about to let it be _Allura_."

Merely arching a brow at that, Kethe tilted his head. "I don't think Allura's even interested in me, Lance. In case you haven't noticed, I'm _Galra_."

That earned him a wet washcloth thrown at his face, which he peeled off with a faint growl. "Yeah, well she's been getting better about that lately." Lance told him. "Now give me that, I need it."

 _Then don't throw it at me_ , Kethe wanted to say, but he merely threw it back at him, smacking him in the face with it.

Peeling it off his own face, Lance merely narrowed his eyes. "Touche. Now make some room, fuzzbutt."

Scooting over, he allowed Lance some space next to him, lifting one of his arms when he motioned for him to do so. As much as he grumbled over it, the damp cloth felt good against his fur, cold against the remnants of his fever.

"You done this before?" Kethe asked after a moment.

"Done it before, had it done before." Lance told him. "Siblings."

Tail flicking behind him, Kethe frowned. He'd heard before that Lance had a large family that he had left behind on Earth, but he never thought that much about himself. _Family_ was a foreign concept to him- he knew the idea, but he didn't know what it was like to _have_ one.

Shiro was supposed to be _like a brother_ to him, but he didn't feel that way. He lacked the context that had created that relationship, so he couldn't fathom what it had been like. "What's it like?"

Glancing up, Lance blinked. "What, siblings?"

Nodding his head, Kethe merely watched the blue paladin. In the first weeks, they had always been uneasy with his gaze, but since then, they had grown accustomed to it, even if they couldn't always tell where he was looking.

"Pain in the ass." Lance told him. "Other arm."

Frowning, Kethe did what he said.

"It's a pain in the ass, but in like, a good way, you know?" Lance continued. "Didn't know how much I'd miss them until I got myself shot into space."

He didn't understand at all, but he decided not to say it. Instead, he asked a different question. "How'd you end up in space anyways?"

As far as he understood it, humans didn't have the technology to get this far into space on their own. He knew Shiro had been held prisoner by the Galra Empire at some point- that was where he had got the arm- but he didn't know how any of the others had wound up in space.

"You _sure_ you want me to answer that, dude?" Lance asked. "Show me your back."

Puzzled, Kethe frowned even as he turned, exposing his back. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because it kind of involves you?" Lance told him.

It wasn't just the cold washcloth pressed up against his back that made him flinch. Somehow it hadn't occurred to him that _he_ might have been involved- he thought of himself as Galra, so even if he knew that he had been human- _more_ human- once, and had been born and raised on Earth, he couldn't help but think of himself as not having ever lived there.

"Oh." Kethe said. "Right."

There was silence between the two of them then, broken only when Lance asked him to lift his hair so he could get his neck. Closing his eyes, Kethe tried not to dwell on the question, wondering how past him- _Keith_ \- had taken action that had resulted in four humans being shot into deep space.

 _Five_ , some deeper part of his mind supplied- _five_ humans.

(He still didn't know if past him, if _Keith_ , knew he was Galra or not. He'd obviously kept it a secret if he had.)

Chewing on his lip, his gaze flicked back towards Lance, not that he noticed. He hadn't thought it has been _his_ fault that they'd ended up in space, but maybe it was?

And now he didn't even remember? Wasn't that the same thing as escaping responsibility?

Lance caught his eye, brow furrowing. "Are you looking at me? Because I'm going to be honest here, I totally can't tell."

"Just thinking." Kethe told him, gaze flickering away.

Lance frowned at that. "What's having no pupils like anyways?"

"What's _having_ pupils like?" Kethe asked in turn.

Lance blinked. "Oh. Yeah. Guess you wouldn't remember, huh. I don't... I've never _not_ had pupils, so I don't know how to explain it to you."

"It's the same." Kethe told him with a shrug. "I don't remember _having_ pupils, so I don't know how to explain it to you."

"Huh." Lance's frown deepened. "Good point. Never thought of it like that."

There was more silence between them then, Lance chucking the washcloth into the dirty pile, grabbing a towel. Tossing it over him, Kethe felt a surprised yowl escape him as he moved to dry him off.

Lance, damn him, let out a snort. "Space cat."

"I don't even know what a damn cat _is_." Kethe hissed, glowering back at him.

"Oh trust me on this one, Keith." Lance told him. "You're _totally_ a giant space cat."

* * *

He hated to admit it, but Lance was right about one thing- being free of sweat _did_ make him feel better. Almost no sooner than had the clean sheets been put on his bed, did he drift off to sleep again, far more peaceful than he had been before.

When he woke next, his fever had broken, and Allura was there.

"Good morning, Keith." Her greeting was cool, diplomatic, even.

He had never been able to figure out just where he stood with the Altean princess. It was clear that she was not as tense around him as she once was, when he first came aboard the castle-ship, but it was just as clear that she still held him at a distance compared to the other paladins.

He had no frame of reference as to how she had treated him before, so he had nothing to compare it to.

"Princess." He greeted her, pushing himself up into a sitting position. "It's tomorrow?"

"You slept clear through dinner and all through the night." Allura informed him. "Hunk requested that I see if you are up to joining us for breakfast this morning."

So she'd been sent by someone else, Kethe thought, running a hand through his hair. It was less damp than it had been yesterday, but he still probably needed to wash it again at some point. "I- yeah, I think I can manage."

"Very good." Allura said, her gaze flickering down towards his hair.

For a moment, her lips twisted into a frown, as if she were considering something, before she finally just decided to come out with it. "Would you like me to assist you with your hair?"

Blinking, Kethe peered up at her. Unlike the paladins, he knew she could tell when he was looking at her, as opposed to anything else in the room, but she did not grow stiff under his gaze as she once had.

"...my hair?" Kethe asked, hand straying up to it, wondering what had brought _that_ on.

"No, Lance's hair." Allura said. "Yes, _your_ hair. If I must be honest, it is a mess."

Letting out a faint snort, Kethe dropped his hand. "I've been asleep for like, an entire day, so it doesn't surprise me."

Allura seemed to frown at that. "If you do not wish for my help, you can merely say so."

Tail flicking, Kethe wondered when it was that he had said _no_. He wasn't sure what had brought it on- the princess was always hard for him to read- but it seemed _earnest_ , if nothing else.

"...if you want?"

He did not except her gaze to light up- if only for the span of a moment, before she quickly concealed it under that diplomatic expression again. "Very well, then. Move over."

Making room for the third person in twenty four hours on his bed, not knowing how to feel about this trend, Kethe turned his head so that Allura could get better access to his hair. Exposing his back was something he had been trained not to do- even before that, it would seem it had been an instinct instilled in him.

But he could trust the paladins- and Allura, for that matter. The two of them might have their differences, but he was pretty sure that if she wanted to kill him, she'd attack him head on from the front.

She had brought a hairbrush with her, he didn't fail to notice- obviously she'd been possessed of this idea before even entering his quarters. Dimly, he wondered what she had been planning on doing if he'd said _no_.

Without any further preamble, she worked her fingers into his hair, giving it a quick run through. He didn't miss the faint note of surprise she let out. "I knew it was not fur, but it does not feel like Galra _hair_ , either."

"It's human hair." Kethe told her. "I think."

Letting out a faint hum, Allura continued to work her fingers through it, before switching to the brush. Closing his eyes, he couldn't help but admit it felt a bit good, his tail swishing lazily behind him, a faint rumble escaping from his chest.

"You do appear to be feeling better." Allura observed.

"Think my fever broke overnight." Kethe told her. "My nose is still clogged though."

"Take today off from training too." Allura said. "Shiro tells me that the most dangerous time is when you're starting to feel better."

"That makes no sense, but okay." Kethe said. "He'd know best."

"Yes, it seems so strange that humans have an illness that they keep getting again and again, from the sound of it." Allura told him. "We had nothing like that on Altea."

Squinting, Kethe couldn't help but frown. "You mean I could get this _again_?"

"That is what I was told." Allura said, setting aside the brush and setting herself to the task of braiding his hair. "Do you wear it like this because of Kolivan?"

Sputtering, Kethe fought the urge to jerk his head back, knowing it wouldn't end well. Opening his mouth to deny it, he quickly shut it, realizing that he'd given himself away by his reaction alone.

"You secret is safe with me, Keith." Allura told him, her tone light, _playful_ , even. She was _teasing_ him, some part of him realized, giving her an irritated flick of his tail.

"...better be." He muttered, folding his arms in front of his chest.

"I do not take my promises lightly." Allura said, withdrawing her hands. "There, all finished. Thank you for allowing me to do this."

Blinking, he glanced back at her, giving her a slight frown. Why was she thanking him?

It was only then that it hit him- that the princess had been attempting to _bond_ with him.

Actually, come to think of it... reflecting back on the previous day, he wondered how he hadn't realized it before. Each and every one of them had made an attempt to come see him- had they... had the paladins been trying to _bond_?

Turning his head away from the princess, Kethe ducked his head. "Y-yeah. You go on ahead, I'll be there in just a second."

She seemed to frown, but said nothing more, simply picking up her hairbrush and making her exit. It was only once she left that Kethe looked up, pressing his hand over his mouth.

It was a deeper part of him that informed him he'd never smiled this _big_ before.

How _couldn't_ he?

They _wanted_ him- the paladins, Coran, Allura- they wanted _him_.

Home. He had told Hunk that this place was a _home_ to him, but it would seem that those words rung more true than he ever could have imagined.


	8. alien side

Oh hey, it's the next part! After this one, this story will be going dark for awhile again, but I'll eventually come back to it. It'll probably be another two parter featuring perspectives from Regris and Matt! I do have something else in the works- have for awhile, but I wanted to wait until season six aired before I actually put it into full swing. Big mood is when you want to wrap the cast of an AU up in a big hug and promise them they won't have a Shiro clone trying to kill them in this universe... y'all bit that bullet, godspeed.

Until next time, whenever that will be!

* * *

 **abyss of memory**

 **alien side**

* * *

Catching Keith's cold hadn't really been in his plans.

Looking at his fellow paladins, Shiro was quite certain it had been in _none_ of their plans. They had all jumped at the bit when it came to looking after Keith, that none of them had really stopped to consider the possibility that he might be contagious.

A disconnect between knowing that he was part human, and him not looking it, he guessed. Keith might have forgotten his own humanity, but the same couldn't be said for any of them- so in hindsight... yeah, that had been really foolish of them.

He suspected that he wasn't alone in not wanting to change their actions, even knowing this, but well... they probably should have taken a little more care to avoid contamination. For the moment, all four of them were confined to the med bay, while Allura and Coran worked to figure out a plan of action.

 _With_ Keith, he noticed.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Lance asked, punctuating his words with a loud sniffle.

"Whatever it is, I don't have a good feeling about it." Pidge groaned. "No offense to Keith, but I don't trust his knowledge of human ailments."

"Did he seriously not know what _sneezing_ was?" Lance asked.

"Or _coughing_?" Hunk chimed in.

"Guys, it'll be fine." Shiro told them, letting out a small cough of his own. "It's not like we can't help them along with a little insight of our own."

Though he could understand why they were worried. He was glad that Keith had fully recovered, his eyes taking on their bright shine again, the color of his fur less dull- but he was willing to admit the paladins _did_ kind of have a point.

Keith was the only paladin not currently ill, and therefore, the most likely paladin that Coran and Allura would discuss what to them, was a mystery ailment. And... yeah, as much faith as he had in Keith, he couldn't claim total confidence in what he might have to tell them.

Not that he wouldn't do his best- he was sure he would. But well... if he had to be honest, then yeah, Keith's amnesia was definitely going to be a problem here. It floored him sometimes the things he just _didn't know_ anymore- when he had first started living on the castle-ship again, he'd assumed that the memories he'd lost were simply personal ones.

He'd severely underestimated the depths of what the witch had done to him.

"Ugh, I am seriously not in the mood for this." Pidge groaned. "I can't _believe_ I caught Keith's cold."

"We _all_ caught Keith's cold." Hunk pointed out. "I guess that's just one more thing to keep in mind, huh."

"It's probably a good thing that Galra don't get sick easily." Pidge muttered, a cough escaping her. "I was reading up on Galra illnesses, and no wonder he seemed so freaked when you found him in the hall, Shiro."

"That bad, huh?" Shiro asked.

"The highest survival rate for night chills is thirty three percent, and that's considered _high_." Pidge informed him.

"Geez Pidge, do you mind maybe not talking about dying right now?" Lance interjected, groaning as he let out another loud sniffle. "Ugh. I can't believe I caught a cold in space. I can't believe _Keith_ caught a cold in space. Who catches a cold in space!?"

"I mean, I'm sure he didn't _mean_ to." Hunk said.

"Well yeah, nobody _means_ to get sick." Lance said, rolling his eyes. "That doesn't mean I can't get annoyed by it."

"Just be careful what you say." Shiro advised him, watching the blue paladin with a frown. "He can be a little sensitive. We don't want to risk the progress we've made."

"No offense Shiro, but I'm not sure I've got the energy to tiptoe around the amnesiac right now." Lance told him. "But I'll try."

"Do." Shiro told him.

He was aware that constantly having to self censor themselves wasn't easy on the other paladins. Allura was largely unfazed by it, probably from some aspect of her upbringing, but for the rest of them, it was a constant challenge of never letting too much slip.

He'd be lying if he said it wasn't rough on him either. Because it was.

How could it not? Keith was his brother, practically family- and now he was just... _gone_.

No, he wasn't gone. Keith was still here, he just... he was _his_ Keith anymore. Not his brother. A stranger.

A stranger wearing his brother's face, speaking in his brother's voice. Like a bodysnatcher.

But no. Kethe wasn't that. There might have been a time, at his lowest possible moment, that he had thought that- but Kethe wasn't that. And that he could have even thought that, even for a moment, disgusted him.

He had changed, yes- that much was evident in the fact that he'd actually let people help him when he was sick. The Keith _he_ knew would have never even admitted to being sick in the first place, powering through whatever illness that he might have.

But he just... sometimes he couldn't help but mourn that scrappy kid he'd first spotted on the other end of a classroom, trying to pretend he wasn't interested in his guest lecture. The sullen orphan, who got himself into fights, who didn't trust anyone until he let Shiro in his life, and even then, not for some time.

The feeling of getting him back alive, and yet somehow not... it was not one that he knew how to deal with. Nobody taught you what to do when you lose your baby brother to freaky space witch amnesia.

 _Get his memories back_ was just downright idealistic at this point, he knew. Pidge theorized that there were still fragments, but nothing big.

Closing his eyes, Shiro forced such thoughts back. When he was sick probably wasn't the best time to be thinking about such complicated stuff.

* * *

This was a bad idea.

Was he glad to go back to his room? Yeah, sure. He didn't exactly want to spend the next few days confined to the med bay with everyone else. He liked his privacy, okay!

Was letting two aliens and an amnesiac half alien take care of them a good idea? Hell no. He just didn't realize what a bad idea it was until Keith had left him in a freezing room. By the time his fuzzy purple ass finally wandered back his way, Lance had huddled up in the corner of his bed, having cocooned himself in blankets.

Keith merely cocked his head to one side, tail swaying behind him. "How can you sleep like that?"

"I can't!" Lance blurted out, feeling his teeth chatter. "It's too damn cold in here!"

Frowning, Keith glanced up, before peering back down at Lance. His face was set in blank confusion. "You have the worst fever. This is the fastest way to get it down."

"What, by _freezing me to death_?" Lance protested, any fire in his words totally ruined by the snot dripping down his nose. "Not all of us have _fur_ , Keith."

And he was damn sure it was the fur that was keeping him from freezing his butt off in here. Which, by the way, was totally unfair- his coat didn't even look that thick!

Ugh, he was almost _glad_ Keith had freaky space witch amnesia. If this had been the same Keith he'd marked for his rival, he would have hated him seeing him this pathetic.

On the other hand, if he didn't have freaky space witch amnesia, then he probably wouldn't be enduring a freezing room right now. Apparently the Alteans knew less about human biology than he'd thought- either that, or they were asking _Keith_ about it, which was not exactly the best source of information.

To his credit, Keith merely blinked, as if this hadn't occurred to him. "Oh."

"Yeah, _oh_." Lance said. "Now can you _please_ turn the temperature up like, at least a little?"

He could have sworn that Keith's tail drooped, but the half-Galra did slowly nod his head. "Yeah, I can- sorry, I didn't- I forgot."

And that's when it hit him that this wasn't Allura or Coran's fault- that _Keith_ had been the one to select the temperature of the room. Keith, who had _fur_.

Watching as the red paladin silently turned up the temperature, Lance felt the chattering of his teeth stop, letting out a long sigh as the room steadily grew warmer. Groaning, he flopped back in bed, finally freeing himself of the cocoon of blankets that he'd entangled himself in.

At least that problem was dealt with.

New problem- he was pretty sure Keith was sulking.

Honest to god _sulking_. The tail really helped, drooping the way it did. He had just been trying to help, and he'd rebuked him. And damned if it didn't make him feel bad, but nope- no, he was not forgiving him that easily for turning his room into an icebox.

"Is that better?" Keith asked, his tone somehow managing to be prickly in spite of the obvious signs that he was _actively sulking_. He was no expert, but he was pretty sure the occasional disconnect between his tone and his body language had _everything_ to do with the whole Galra transformation thing.

"Yeah, better." Lance told him. "I hope you didn't set any of the other rooms that low, cause if you did, ya might wanna go fix that right quick before we all freeze to death."

Thank god for Keith's expressive eyebrows, for they sure as heck made reading him a lot easier. Case in point, when they knit together like that- that usually meant he'd just asked a weird question.

Or something _Keith_ thought of as a weird question, at least.

"You had the highest fever. It was dangerous." Keith stated plainly. "Coran told me humans can die of high fevers."

And damnit Keith, that wasn't fair- because now? Now he felt bad.

(Also he had no clue where _Coran_ had picked up that tidbit of information. Someone must have mentioned it to him offhand when he had been taking their vitals during those first few days on the Castle, when they'd all still been getting used to each other.)

But at least it explained Keith's goddamn _sulking_. Had he honestly been that worried he was just going to roll over and die? From a _cold_?

Then again, sickness was a much more serious issue for the Galra, so he guessed it _did_ kind of make sense.

If he had to be honest... Lance was touched. Mildly annoyed, yes, but touched.

"Aw, does space cat care about me~?" He teased, giving Keith a playful grin.

"I'm not a space cat, Lance." Keith hissed, narrowing his eyes. "And of course I care."

Oh. Uh.

He hadn't been expecting that.

"Anyways," Keith said, turning on his heel, "-I have to go help Coran. Let us know if there's anything you need."

"I- yeah, sure. Keep that in mind." Lance said, slowly nodding his head, watching as Keith stalked out of the room.

That was uh... had Keith always been that blunt? I mean, sure yeah, he was never one to mask his opinions, but he didn't think that he did it in regards to like, _people_. Hell, he'd been pretty sure that the guy _barely tolerated_ him when he'd vanished.

So this was uh... huh. He actually did not know what to make of this development.

And honestly? He was _way_ too sick to be dwelling on it right now anyways. Now that his room wasn't a friggin icebox anymore, it was high time that he catch up on his beauty rest.

* * *

"Well I'm afraid I just don't see it here, Number Four." Glancing back towards the red paladin, Coran couldn't help but frown. "Are you sure he called it _porridge_?"

"Positive, Coran." Keith told him.

"Hm," scooping up the cookbook that their yellow paladin had put together, Coran turned around, leaning against the counter, "-well I'll give it another look through. Maybe I just missed it."

Paging through the book- more of a binder, really- Coran searched its pages for the desired recipe. Out of the corner of his eye, Keith watched him with marked curiosity, having perched himself on a stool, both feet planted firmly on it, gripping the front of it with his hands.

"Do you think maybe he didn't write it down yet?" Keith asked, tilting his head.

"It's possible." Coran remarked. "It hasn't been that long since you recovered from your own bout of sickness, so perhaps he just hasn't had the chance to. Now you're sure this is what humans eat when they're sick?"

"Positive." Keith told him. "There was also something about chicken noodle soup."

"Well I know what a _noodle_ is, but I'm afraid my knowledge of _chickens_ is rather lacking." Coran noted. "Must be some Earth thing."

"I think it's a bird." Keith ventured, squinting. "But I'm not sure how they make it into noodles."

"Meat noodles, eh? Well I'll give you Earthlings one thing- you're nothing if not creative in the kitchen." Coran told him, slamming the cookbook shut. "I'm afraid it's just not in here, Number Four."

Watching his face fall at that, Coran set down the cookbook, giving him a smile. "You could always just ask. I'm sure Number Two would be more than happy to tell you."

Brows drawing together, the lazy swaying of Keith's tail grew a bit more animated. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

Clicking his tongue, Coran nodded his head. Yes, he'd been suspecting something like that ever since Keith approached him with the idea. He'd that insistent look in his eye, the one he got whenever an idea worked it's way into his head.

"Well, why don't we have another look through this, then?" Coran asked, scooping up the cookbook. "Maybe there's some other kind of soup that we can put together in here."

Perking up at the offer, Keith removed himself from the stool, with such a natural grace that one would never guess he hadn't been born with a tail.

Oh there was evidence of it, sure enough. Traces where the bone had been broken and reformed, forced to grow the way Zarkon's witch wished it to. His tail was flesh and bone, but he suspected that it had belonged to another creature before it had been implanted on Number Four. His body was not so unlike the Castle- a blend of science and magic, coming together to create something new.

But unlike the Castle, it was no product of wonder, but that of _horror_. He could not even begin to imagine how much pain he had to have been in during it all, so in a way, one could say it was a small mercy that he did not remember any of it.

Not that Number Four _himself_ was a horror- goodness no. Perish the thought. The circumstances that had made him this way were monstrous, but there wasn't a lick about the lad that was monstrous in and of himself.

How he'd even survived was testament to the red paladin's unyielding spirit, a trait which had not been lost in his rebirth.

"Coran?" Tilting his head, Keith frowned. "You okay?"

"Oh yes, I'm just fine, Number Four." Coran told him- no need to trouble him with his own thoughts, not when he had enough on his plate as it was already. "Now I _did_ see a soup on page thirty five that looked like it might do the trick, so why don't we see if we can whip up something a bit close to it?"

Tail flicking behind him, very much a part of him now, Keith grinned. "Thanks, Coran."

"Oh think nothing of it." Coran told him. "It's not like we can just leave your fellow paladins to starve, now can we?"

* * *

Alright, if he was gonna be honest, maybe he _did_ freak out a little when he opened his eyes to find a pair of golden ones staring straight into them.

Letting out a yelp, Hunk pushed himself up with a jolt, heart pounding in his chest- before he let out a long sigh, realizing that it was just Keith. To his credit, the red paladin had barely even reacted, merely peering up at him from where he had crouched by his bed.

Where he had apparently been watching him sleep. Okay, so that part was a little weird.

"Oh man Keith, you gave me a scare." Hunk told him. "How long have you been there?"

"Not long." Keith told him, tail swishing on the ground behind him. "I brought food."

And so he had, Hunk noticed. There was a tray set down by his feet, a bowl of what looked to be soup resting on it.

"Aw, Keith!" Hunk exclaimed, settling back into bed, propping his back up against the wall. "Did you make that for me?"

"Coran helped." Keith told him, picking up the tray, taking great care to place it over his knees. "But I did most of the work."

"Don't worry," he added, a faint hint of a grin on his face, "-I wore actual gloves this time."

Unable to help himself, Hunk shuddered. He still had nightmares about the first time Keith had tried to help him in the kitchen, and just ended up getting fur everywhere. He'd had to scrap the whole dish. Somehow it hadn't occurred to him that Keith being covered in it now would be a problem.

"Well thanks, Keith, I really appreciate it." Hunk told him. "What is this, tomato soup? Did you use one of my recipes?"

Or well, close enough to tomato soup, at least. The flavor was pretty darn similar, though it had an orange tint to it that made him feel more like he was eating pumpkin soup sometimes.

Nodding his head, Keith frowned. "I wanted to make that _porridge_ stuff, but you didn't write it down anywhere. And we couldn't find any chickens."

Chickens? It took him a minute, but he could sort of recall mentioning something about chicken noodle soup to Keith back when he'd been sick. He was amazed he even remembered.

"Keith, if you could find chickens in the middle of space, I'd be very impressed." Hunk told him.

"Lance found a cow." Keith replied.

"...yeah, fair." Hunk admitted. "Guess maybe space chickens aren't too far fetched after all."

"Guess not." Keith told him, quirking a grin.

Picking up his spoon, Hunk dipped it in the soup, carefully blowing it on a bit before putting it in his mouth. This was the first thing Keith had ever made for him, so he couldn't wait to-!

Oh no. Keith had mixed up the space salt with the space _sugar_.

Oh no, it must have shown on his face too. Because Keith's face fell, which just made him feel like he'd kicked a puppy or something. Even his _tail_ stilled, freezing in place.

Jolting to his feet, Keith picked the tray up, bangs concealing his eyes. "Sorry, I'll get you something else."

"No, Keith, it's fine!" Hunk blurted out, reaching up to grip the tray himself. "You made this for me, I want to eat it."

Peering out from behind his bangs, Keith gave him a skeptical look. "I saw your face Hunk, you don't have to lie to me."

"I mean it, Keith." Hunk told him, finally able to reclaim the tray from him, setting it back down in his lap.

"You don't have to force yourself to-"

"Nun-uh, not having that." Hunk cut him off. "In this house, we do not waste food."

Keith merely gave him a blank look, brows furrowing. "Hunk, this is a spaceship."

"Figure of speech." He told him. "It doesn't even taste that bad, just a little weird."

Seriously though- Keith had made this! For him! Even if it tasted terrible- which it _didn't_ , it was just a little off- he still would have forced himself to eat every bite.

Because this? This right here wasn't just a bowl of tomato soap- it was a bowl of friendship.

...and okay, that was a corny line. He'd admit it. But he'd also stick to it.

Keith had always been such an enigma to him, ever since the Garrison. There was something about the withdrawn ace pilot that caught his attention- Lance would say he was just a loner, to just leave him, but Hunk always just thought he seemed kind of _lonely_.

He'd always kind of wanted to go up to him, to maybe make a bit of small talk- maybe even become friends, but he could never think of a good way to break the ice. Then the Kerberos disaster had happened, and he lost any chance of that.

Or so he'd thought.

Suddenly they were both paladins of Voltron, defending the universe together. And it turned out that it was a lot easier to break the ice with a guy you'd linked minds with. He found out that Keith would laugh at his dumb jokes- turns out he was a big fan of sight gags, who knew? He found out that he was actually just kind of awkward- which he could totally relate to.

And then he'd vanished.

When they found him again, he didn't know them anymore- didn't know _himself_. Everything that they had built... it was no longer there. They were strangers to him.

This time, Hunk decided _he_ was going to take the initiative. Mending his clothes to fit his new, taller body had been his way of dragging him back into their circle- and it had _worked_.

Now here he was, wearing the clothes he had altered for him, having done his damnedest to make him a bowl of soup because he was sick, because he wanted to return the favor. How could he possibly _not_ eat it?

For a moment, he almost thought Keith would insist again- but instead he shifted on his feet, acting as if he didn't quite know where to look. "Will you... when you're better, will you show me what I did wrong?"

And at that, Hunk couldn't help but beam.

"Absolutely."

* * *

"Keith? Have you seen Pidge?"

Oh. She hadn't realized it when she'd first entered the lounge, but it appeared he'd been asleep. Watching as he uncurled himself, giving a loud yawn, Keith blinked blearily at her. "Pidge?"

Well, while it hadn't been her intent to interrupt his nap, there was no changing that now. "She is not in her room. I was hoping perhaps she would be in here, but clearly that is not the case."

Getting to his feet, Keith linked his fingers, raising them above his head, his joints popping as he stretched. Yawning a second time, he scratched the back of his head, frowning. "Have you checked the green lion's hangar yet?"

"No, not yet." Allura told him. "But I suppose you are right, I should have checked there first."

She just assumed, that for whatever reason, the paladins would stay put when they were sick. Keith had barely left his room during his bout with illness, but she supposed that assuming they would all do the same had been her mistake.

Mounting the couch, Keith gave her a small, if not somewhat strained, smile. "Want me to go get her, since I'm up?"

Inwardly, she couldn't help but flinch. She felt a tad guilty for waking him, though she doubted that was the effect Keith was trying to achieve.

Things remained... well, _awkward_ between the two of them. Ever since they had escaped from the alternate reality, she had been trying to make strides in reconnecting with the red paladin, but it was not progressing quite as fast as she had hoped.

He was Galra, yes, but she was starting to understand that this did not make him some kind of monster. He was simply Keith- and since returning to his role as paladin of Voltron, he had shown himself to be nothing but worthy of her trust- as indeed, the rest of the Blade of Marmora had.

She was not so stubborn that she could not see when she had erred in her judgement.

"Yes, that would be much appreciated." Allura told him. "I will check the records room, in case she is there."

Nodding his head, Keith moved to leave the lounge- before he stopped, peering back towards her. "Should I bring her back to her room if I find her?"

"Yes." Allura said, firmly. "The sick should not be wandering about."

He gave her another faint smile, and she felt herself return one in kind. It was not _so_ bad, really, now that she had a chance to get used to it.

Though the first time she had seen Keith's features worn on a Galra face... she had felt her heart stop. It had been like a nightmare become real.

Her father's lion, in the hands of a _Galra_. The thought had twisted at her when it returned to the Castle of Lions, the Blade that had accompanied Hunk stumbling out of it. She had been furious- furious that the red lion would accept such a creature, furious that it had shut _her_ out for it.

When Hunk and Shiro both stepped in to defend him, she'd felt so betrayed. Not only was there now a Galra in her father's lion, it seemed set to tear the team apart with its choice.

And then the Galra turned out to be _Keith_.

Keith, who part of her had feared dead.

Keith, who turned out to have been Galra from the very moment that he stepped foot in the Castle of Lions. Who she might never know for sure if he knew or not.

That still ate at her, she would not lie. But it was not as if she could blame Keith- or well, _Kethe_ , she supposed- for it.

That it had been an _Altean_ that had done this to him... she could not help but feel a certain sense of guilt over that. _She_ was Altean, and a gifted one at that, so surely there must have been some way for her to restore his memories, but she simply did not know _how_.

"I hope that will not be too much trouble for you." Allura told him, pushing all such thoughts away.

Letting out a snort, Keith arched a brow. "Who, Pidge? She's _tiny_. How much trouble can she possibly be?

Oh, he would very much come to regret that.

* * *

"Keith, I swear, if you don't put me down right now, I'll bite."

She meant it too, dammit- just because he'd gotten a little bigger, didn't mean he could just sling her over his shoulder like this! She was a human being, not a sack of potatoes, for crying out loud!

And okay, sure, maybe she shouldn't have snuck out on her room to work on her latest project- but come on, being confined to her room all day? With nothing to do? She was going to go mad at this rate!

Besides, her cold wasn't even _that_ bad. Sure, her nose was clogged up to the point that she was really only breathing out of one nostril, but it wasn't like it was going to kill her.

Boredom? Boredom totally would.

Keith, damn him, just snorted.

"I've _seen_ your teeth, Pidge." He told her. "That's not a threat."

"Not all of us can have _fangs_ , Keith." Pidge told him.

"Better than blunt baby teeth." Keith said.

"Need I remind you that _you_ had these same _blunt baby teeth_ once?" Pidge pointed out- and kicked herself the moment she'd said it. Slung over his shoulder like she was, she could feel Keith flinch under her.

Tact- never really her strong suit. When she was sick? A lot less so. But that was... yeah, she couldn't help but feel like she'd directly gone for his weak point.

(Great battle strategy. Dick friend move.)

At least Keith just seemed to brush it off. "Well, glad _that's_ over with."

Exhaling, Pidge felt her shoulders slump. That could have gone a lot worse.

"You don't have to, you know." Keith spoke up. "Dance around the changes, I mean."

Frowning, she peered up at him- though from this perspective, all she could see was the back of his head. "You just always seem like you don't want to talk about them."

He shifted a bit under her, and she doubted it was just to adjust her weight. She was pretty sure that she weighed like, next to nothing to him. That'd annoy her a lot more, had she not once seen him scoop up Shiro like he was nothing.

And that was _before_ he had turned Galra.

In hindsight, how the hell did none of them notice that Keith was half alien?

"It's not my favorite subject," Keith began, "-but I know that I'm different than I was before."

She sensed he didn't just mean _physically_.

"And not just, _physically_ , either," okay, she had not expected him to admit that much out loud, given how evasive he had been in the past two months, "-I, I'm-"

Maybe she couldn't see his face from this angle, but she _could_ see his tail, which was about as dead a giveaway as anything. It was swishing in anxious circles, back and forth, back and forth.

"-I'm not... _have_ I changed?"

It was a question that she sensed took him a lot of courage to ask- she just had no idea why he'd chosen to do it while he had her slung over his shoulder. But fine, if this was how this conversation was going to happen, she could deal with that.

Even if she was a little surprised that _she_ was the one he came to with it.

"You want the nice answer or the actual answer?" She asked.

"Actual answer." Keith told her, his tone more curt than he likely intended to make it. "Please."

Letting out a long sigh, she frowned. "Yes."

As expected, he flinched. He didn't break his stride, but his tail went stock still, almost limp. "Oh."

"But," she cut in before he could say anything else, "-probably not as much as you think you have."

"Then why do I feel like such an imposter?"

She was pretty sure he hadn't meant to ask that. Not out loud, at least.

"Because you're in the middle of an existential crisis, dumbass." She told him. "Listen Keith, I'm not going to claim that I know what you're going through, because I _don't_. But what I _do_ know is that your issues aren't going to get any better if you keep running them around in your head without ever asking anyone for help."

"I'm not-" Keith began, but she cut him off.

"Uh, yeah you are." She told him. "Keith, trust me, none of us think you're an imposter."

"I could be." He said- and god, she didn't even need to look at his damn face to know what kind of expression was on it. "What if you're all wrong? What if I'm just some fake?"

Okay, she needed to not be slung over his shoulder for this kind of talk. With a grunt, she squirmed her way from his grip, landing on the floor with less grace than she would like. Jerking her head up to look at him, she nearly sighed- yep, that was exactly the expression she expected to see.

Had _that_ been what was been bothering him all this time? Half of her just wanted to straight up deny it, but she could sense that wasn't going to solve the root problem. If he was seriously worried about it, it was better to address it.

"Alright, so _assuming_ you're some kind of fake," she began, not missing the way he tensed, "-what would be the point?"

He blinked, tilting his head. "To get you to trust me?"

"Fair enough." Pidge admitted. "Then why are you _Galra_?"

Opening and closing his mouth, Keith's brows knit together. "I... don't know?"

"See?" She asked. "If Zarkon's witch wanted to make some kind of fake Keith, there's no reason for her to make a fake _Galra_ Keith, not if her objective is earning our trust. Besides, we all know that the witch doesn't have any means of controlling you- we've checked. Doesn't that kind of defeat the purpose?"

"I could be some kind of reject?" Keith ventured.

Okay, that was fair. More believable than the first idea, at least, even though it still had it's fair share of problems.

"Alright, so say that's true." She began. "On one hand, that would mean the real Keith's still out there somewhere, and that's... not something I like to think about, but you're still _you_."

That just got her a puzzled look, not that she could blame him. Words weren't always her strongest suit. "But then I wouldn't be _Keith_."

"No, you wouldn't." Pidge admitted. " _But_ ," and she stressed the _but_ , because damnit, it was important, "-in that case, we've lived with you for two months, dude. We care about _you_."

Keith's expression just grew more puzzled, brows knitting together. "But don't you want me to be Keith?"

Did she? Well yeah, because the alternative wasn't pretty. But putting that aside and focusing on the question from a more personal level- even if this somehow wasn't Keith, it wasn't like she didn't like having him around.

Who else would listen to her chatter on about her latest project, even when he didn't understand a lick of it? Sure, she could do that with Hunk, and he would get her, but sometimes a silent sounding board was just what she needed, and unlike Lance, Keith never complained.

So even if this somehow _wasn't_ Keith- a failed clone of some sort that had turned out way more Galra than the original, though how you even fuck up a clone that bad she had no idea- she wasn't about to toss him out the nearest airlock if that turned out to be true.

"We want you to be _you_ , fuzzbutt." Pidge told him. "Whatever that means, whoever that is. Doesn't matter who you were before, or even if you _weren't_ anyone before, which, by the way, you totally _were_ , because your body actively shows signs of having been physically altered-"

"-wait, it does?"

"-so you had to have been- wait, what?" Pidge asked, stopping herself short. "Keith, you've had like _three_ full scale physical examinations done on you, and you mean to tell me you never asked for the results even _once_?"

He flinched at the question, and she could only let out a long, exasperated sigh. "Christ Keith, you could have saved yourself so much inner turmoil if you'd just _asked_."

God though. If that wasn't a fucking Keith move.

* * *

When Shiro finds him, he's fast asleep in the kitchen.

He must have drifted off at some point, half eaten meal still in front of him. With a careful hand, he slid it away from him, but didn't put it away. He might still want it when he woke up.

He looked so peaceful that he didn't want to bother him- he'd been running around the castle-ship almost all day, helping Allura and Coran. Smiling, he quietly crept towards the cabinets, searching for a mug. It's not easy in the dark, but he doesn't want to turn the lights on at risk of waking Keith up.

"...shiro?"

Wincing, Shiro glanced back, giving Keith a sheepish look. "...this is a dream?"

He's still half asleep, but the deadpan expression Keith gives him is a clear giveaway that he's not buying it. Somehow the lack of pupils just sells it more. "No it's not."

"No it's not." Shiro repeated.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Keith asked, letting out a faint yawn. "You're sick."

"I know, don't worry." Shiro told him. "I'm just getting some tea."

God, had he ever been thankful when it turned out there was an Altean equivalent to tea. He liked a good pot of coffee as much as the next guy, but nothing really beat a good cup of tea.

At least, he thought so. Pidge and Keith seemed to share a mutual disdain for it, but that came as little surprise- they were caffeine bugs, of the coffee variety, even though he was half convinced that caffeine didn't even have an _effect_ on Keith.

Turned out, he still preferred it- or the space equivalent of it, at least. He wasn't going to lie, he'd secretly kind of sulked for awhile. They had a lot of ground to cover, so being able to connect over a good cup of tea had been an admittedly brief fantasy of his.

That was before the reality of the severity of Keith's memory loss had sunk in.

Shoulders slumping, Keith leaned back in his chair. "Good, because I was worried I'd have to drag you back to bed."

He probably could, too. He'd been unreasonably strong even before his appearance had changed, and since then, he'd only managed to get stronger.

"No worries there." Shiro promised him. "You want some?"

"Do I want _leaf water_?" Keith asked, making a face. "Pass."

"You know, coffee is just bean water." Shiro pointed out.

"Yeah, and it has _actual flavor_. Tea just tastes like hot water." Keith told him, folding his arms in front of him.

Laughing, Shiro shook his head. "That's because you never let yours steep for long enough. I always told you that-"

The words slipped out without meaning to, really. He couldn't help it- the flow of the conversation had been so natural that with his back turned, he'd nearly forgotten anything had changed.

But things had.

"...you always told me what?"

The question caused him to nearly drop the tea bin, turning sharply on his heel. A pair of expectant eyes meet his, glowing in the dark like two pinpricks.

"You- you actually want to know?" Shiro asked, sounding hesitant.

Which Keith very quickly picked up on, gaze- presumably- flickering away from him. "I mean... it's jut about tea, right?"

There was a hesitance to his voice that made him sound almost vulnerable. "It's just... you never ask questions."

Keith frowned, a clawed hand catching the edge of his fork, rocking it back and forth with a finger as if to distract himself. "I talked to Pidge about some things."

"Some things?" Shiro asked, setting down the tea bin.

Keith nodded his head, narrowing his eyes. Even in the dark, it was impossible to deny his change, not with the faint illumination his eyes gave off. He'd be lying if he said they didn't bring back bad memories, and that it had taken him time just to hold his brother's gaze.

Now he was used to them. They weren't expressive in the same way human eyes were, but they weren't without their own life.

"Yeah." Keith said. "Some things."

Leaning back against the counter, Shiro studied him. He might not have the same kind of night vision as Keith had, but living for so long as a captive of the Galra Empire had definitely improved his night vision.

"And that makes you want to ask questions now?" Shiro asked, no trace of accusation in his voice. This was a good thing, as far as he was concerned.

Although he still did mean it- if Keith decided that he never wanted to know about his past life, so to speak, then he had decided to accept that. He knew a little about memory loss, but he also knew that Keith... well, he wasn't getting his back, at least not through any traditional means.

His missing year would come back with time. Keith's missing eighteen would not.

"I don't know." Keith confessed after a moment. "But... just, little things, maybe."

"Little things." Shiro repeated. "Like tea."

Glancing towards him, Keith gave him an awkward smile. "Yeah."

"Up to you." Shiro told him, holding up his hands. "You sure you want to talk about it?"

"I mean, if you keep asking me that, I'm pretty sure I'm going to change my mind but for now... yeah." Keith told him. "I still do."

"Fair enough." Shiro said. "Because your tea habits were _the worst_."

"Well now I'm just offended on behalf of past me." Keith remarked.

"You don't even _know_ past you." Shiro pointed out.

"Still offended." Keith told him. "If you want to talk about gross habits, what's with all the cream you put in your coffee?"

"I put a normal amount of cream in my coffee, Keith." Shiro told him. "Not everyone likes to just guzzle it straight from the pot."

Narrowing his eyes, Keith watched him with suspicion. "In my defense, _I've_ never done that."

Which was fair. Past Keith had definitely done that. Current Keith... well, he'd never _caught_ him doing it, but he couldn't say with one hundred percent certainty that he wasn't lying out of his ass right now.

"So just in _your_ defense." Shiro noted.

"Gotta look out for number one." Keith told him with a shrug.

Letting out a snort, Shiro's brows shot up. "Okay, who taught you that phrase?"

"Lance." Keith readily supplied.

Of course it was. He needed to have a talk with him at some point in regards to teaching Keith weird things.

Maybe Kethe wasn't _his_ brother, not the sullen orphan with discipline issues that he had taken under his wing. But he was _still_ his brother, and memories or not, that wouldn't change.

Things _had_ changed, things that neither of them could control. But this? This Shiro _could_ control.

So he would.


	9. regris side

And we're back! I've got three installments planned this time! This obviously, is one of them. The next will be from Matt's POV, and the third shall be a mystery perspective that I won't spoil! Can you guess?

* * *

 **abyss of memory**

 **regris side**

* * *

Word spread fast.

They might be a network of spies, but even the Blade of Marmora was not invulnerable to rumor. Especially not when something as curious as this came their way.

One of their number had recovered a child from a Galra prison ship- a ship on which he was the sole prisoner. That alone was worth noting, but what was _more_ interesting was the fact that he'd earned the attention of Zarkon's witch. The lengths to which she had gone to hide his existence were nothing short of impressive, which meant whoever this child was, he was clearly of some importance.

Only they had no idea why.

The child himself did not know- _amnesia_ , he had heard some say. He knew nothing- not about why he was on that ship, nor why the witch would even be interested in him.

Not even anything about himself.

 _Kethe_. The Blade who had rescued him- Ulaz- had named him as such. He stood with the slight stature of a child, but his facial features were more defined than they should be at that age. He was a hybrid of some sort, though his planet of origin was just as ill-defined as the rest of him.

And now he was in charge of him.

He didn't know what he had expected. Maybe something fragile, frightened.

What he got instead was determination.

It was the first thing that struck him, upon seeing the child of rumors for the first time. Not the way he used the wall to balance himself, nor the odd sheen of his hair. But that look, the one that told him that whoever this child was, he was no fragile flower, that needed to be taught how not to wilt.

There was no denying that he was scrawny- malnourished, even. But there was a fight in him that could not be denied.

"Kethe," Kolivan's voice was stern, but when was it ever _not_ , he thought, "-this is Regris. He'll be in charge of your training."

He didn't know why he had been picked for this. There were other, more capable Blades who would have been a better choice, but he knew by now better than the question his leader's decisions.

So instead, he stuck out his arm. Sure, he was some mystery amnesia child of unknown origin, but that was no reason not to be friendly, right?

Instead of grasping his forearm, however, Kethe grasped his hand- and then looked as if he didn't quite know what to do with it. Instead of trying to work it out, he merely let his hand go, dropping his own to his side, leaving Regris' arm to hang awkwardly in the air.

Right.

Something like this should be expected- mystery amnesia child and all.

"Nice to meet you." Kethe said, his voice not at all what he'd expected it to be. No wonder his exact age was something that was in question.

"Kethe requires specific training that I believe you are best equipped to handle." Kolivan spoke up.

"Specific training?" Regris blinked, looking up towards Kolivan. All of his specialities tended towards the mental, not the physical.

The answer came from Kethe. "Tail."

Blinking, Regris glanced back down at him, eyes falling on the aforementioned appendage. It seemed to duck back behind him at his gaze, more on instinct than anything else. It was then that he took notice of how unbalanced he was- unsteady on his feet, even while standing.

His own tail curled behind him, and he didn't miss the faint way that Kethe's gaze trailed after it. It struck him then, that the _specific training_ that Kolivan referred to was teaching him how to adapt to having a _tail_.

Suddenly, Kolivan's choice made sense. There weren't many of their number, not at the main base. There was Antok, but serving as Kolivan's right hand kept him busy- he didn't have time to train anyone, much less an inexperienced youngster who didn't even know how to walk straight.

Looking back up towards Kolivan, his leader merely gave him a curt nod. "We believe that certain aspects of Kethe's physiology may have been altered."

It was testament to how composed he could be, that Kolivan managed to utter that statement without so much as even blinking. The implications of it were horrifying- Regris tried to imagine what it would be like if someone removed his tail, and could only shudder at the thought.

He would not like it, not one bit.

Sensing that Kolivan was waiting for an answer, Regris stood straight. "Understood. I'll take care of him, Kolivan."

Satisfied with that, Kolivan dismissed himself, leaving the two of them alone. For a long moment, all they did was stare at the other- before Regris finally broke the silence. "How about you show me your walk?"

Crinkling his brow, Kethe's nose scrunched up. "It's not exactly graceful."

"I promise not to judge." Regris told him- and meant it, too. He was essentially having to relearn how to walk- not an easy task, even for a seasoned warrior. "If we're going to do this, it would help to know from where to start."

Kethe frowned, but before long, gave him a curt nod of his head. Taking a small step forward- even that effort made him waver on his feet, unsteady. He only got five steps in before he had to use the wall to prop himself up, keeping himself from falling over. Letting out a frustrated grumble, Kethe's tail flicked in irritation behind him, which earned it a scathing look.

Clearly the first thing he'd have to teach him was that his tail was _not_ his enemy.

* * *

Kethe proved interesting.

He was a quick study, finding his feet faster than he expected him to. Once he stopped treating his tail as if it were the enemy, he began to gradually grow used to its presence, learning how to work with it. Frustration served as a good motivator- he wanted to begin training as soon as possible, but in order to do that, he needed to be able to walk in a straight line, unaided.

Teaching him how to use an appendage that he'd had all his life was trickier than Regris had expected. He didn't know what it was like to _not_ have a tail, so teaching him how to correct his balance from not having one, to having one proved a challenge. Thankfully, he quickly learned that what he needed to do wasn't teach- but simply _show_.

They found a routine, like that.

Kethe would sit to the side in one of the training rooms, and simply watch him. There was an intensity to his gaze, as he scrutinized every movement that he made, watching how his body moved in tandem with his tail. At first, it had unnerved him a bit, but he soon grew used to it.

He would then try to mimic him- moving his tail in the same way, trying to move his body in tandem with it. Sometimes the other way around. It proved effective, much faster than anything Regris could have actually taught him.

Kethe also proved to be rather endearing.

There was something to his stubbornness, his _drive_. Perhaps he wasn't actually a child, but he was still _young_ , Regris sensed. Younger than him. It was like having a younger brother around, and as someone who had been an only child, it was quaint, that feeling.

Did Kethe have any siblings? A family that missed him? People searching for him?

He knew that Kolivan, alongside Ulaz, were still searching for answers. They had asked Kethe as many questions as they could think of, but he didn't know the answer to any of them. Sometimes Regris caught himself wondering what it was like, to live like that- only able to remember back so far, and then just... _nothing_.

Kethe was probably stronger than any of them gave him credit for.

But as endearing as his stubborn streak was, it could also be just as much of a pain. He would often work himself to the bone, at times having to be physically dragged from the training room. More often than not, he was the one in charge of doing so.

Like he was right now.

Kethe had been wavering on his feet, and it had nothing to do with any balance issues. Not from the way he could barely keep his eyes open, his body clearly craving sleep. He wasn't even supposed to _be_ in the training room at this hour- at this hour, he was supposed to be sleeping, which was probably why his body was begging him to do so.

He had a surprising amount of fight in him, for someone who was half asleep. "Lemme go, Regris."

"Not doing that." Regris told him, not releasing his grip on his collar. "You need rest."

"No I don't." Kethe protested, sounding every bit like the child they thought he was when he'd first been brought here.

"You can barely keep your eyes open." Regris told him. "What good will it do you if you just fall asleep in the training room? What if you catch the night chills?"

"You can't catch the night chills like that." Kethe protested, folding his arms in front of him.

Regris frowned. "I'll be honest, I'm surprised you even know what those _are_."

Kethe's fur bristled at the comment, and tired though he was, he was still awake enough to shoot him a glare. "I've done my reading."

Which was true. What time Kethe didn't spend training, he spent reading. Studying. He seemed to have an almost compulsive desire to _know_ , and he had to wonder if it was the byproduct of having almost no memories of his own.

They had caught him falling asleep in the archive too.

But falling asleep in the archive and falling asleep in the training rooms were two different things. In the archives, the master kept a watchful eye, ready with a blanket for any dozing acolytes deep into their studies- and even the occasional Blade proper. But no one would find him in the training room until morning, and it wasn't exactly an environment that was conducive to sleeping well.

Everyone knew Kethe had nightmares.

Dreams were uncommon among the Galra, but not unheard of. And Kethe was a hybrid- so it was not so unexpected that he should have them.

Which was perhaps _why_ he was on the training deck in the middle of the night, now that he thought about it. Avoiding sleep. Avoiding dreams.

"Do you want to talk about them?" Regris asked, finally releasing his grip on Kethe's collar.

"Talk about what?" Kethe asked, ready to brush the question off.

 _That_ was an annoying habit of his as well. And Regris? Regris was not going to stand for it.

"Nope." Regris told him, pushing him with a light hand into his quarters. "We're going to talk about it. Sit."

"My room." Kethe grumbled, even as he sunk back into the bed, tail flicking out of his way. He still sat on it, from time to time, but he'd gotten better about it recently.

"I'm in charge of you." Regris pointed out.

"Of my _training_." Kethe shot back, tail flicking in annoyance as he looked up at him.

"Your emotional state can effect how well you fight." Regris told him- which sounded reasonable enough, but really, all he wanted to do was just lend him an ear. But he sensed Kethe needed an excuse, so an excuse he would give. "Best to just come out with it, if something is troubling you."

"Nothing is troubling me." Kethe told him.

"Kethe-" Regris began.

"No, that's just it." Kethe told him, cutting him off. "It's _nothing_. My dreams are just- there's nothing _there_ , Regris."

Closing his mouth, Regris frowned. "You can't dream about _nothing_."

"I do." Kethe said. "I don't- I don't know how to describe it to you."

Taking a seat on the bed next to him, Regris carefully studied the young acolyte. Kethe's weak side was one he hesitated to show to others, as if there was something deep in his subconscious that was keeping him from doing so. A survival tactic, maybe- one whose cause Kethe had long since forgotten, even as his body remembered.

Perhaps he could try and teach him otherwise.

"Try." Regris told him. "I will listen. It may help."

For a long time, Kethe simply looked at him- before he turned his gaze away, dropping it downwards. His tail flicked around to his front, resting in his lap. He took to stroking the tip of it- a comforting gesture, he suspected.

"I know that it's a dream, and that it's not _real_ , but it's just this... this _void_." Kethe began. "Sometimes there's shapes, _images_ , but they don't stay long. Like the second I try and concentrate on them, they slip away from me. Or I can hear people talking, but I can't make out what they're saying, or even what their voices sound like."

"It's like..." searching for the words, Kethe's brows furrowed, "-it's like I'm trapped inside my own head."

For a long moment, he didn't understand. Maybe it was because he didn't dream- everything he knew about them, he'd read, or heard from those who did. It wasn't until Kethe met his eyes, that it clicked.

He couldn't dream about anything because he didn't _remember_ anything.

His time with the Blade of Marmora had barely made a dent in what he had lost. He had been with them for only two months- and before that, he had nothing.

It must have been terrifying.

"What if it's like this forever?" Kethe asked, staring down at his own hands. "I don't want to be the only person to not have a past."

"You have a past." Regris told him. "Here, with us."

Kethe let out a snort. "Yeah, a short one."

"It will get longer." Regris promised him. "You will create new memories, that is the good thing about them. Then maybe you will dream of something."

Frowning, Kethe looked up at him. "That feels like it could take a long time."

"Are you in a rush?" Regris asked.

"I-" Kethe opened his mouth, only to shut it again. "No. Guess not."

"Good." Regris told him. "Then try to get some rest. If I catch you sneaking off to the training room again, I will put you on mess hall duty."

"Doesn't sound so bad." Kethe said.

" _Cleaning_ it."

"...on second thought, I take it back."

* * *

Ulaz was dead, and Kethe was set to face his trials.

It was against all reason- it had only been five months since he came. Enough time for him to find his feet, but not nearly enough to make a seasoned warrior out of him. Perhaps he had talent with the blade, and persistence, and while those things might carry him through the physical portion, it was not the physical portion that he was so worried about.

Regris still recalled his own trials. He was grateful he didn't dream, for he was sure that he would still sometimes see the images in his nightmares were he to do so.

But Kethe had no memories. No one knew what that would bring. Give him time, let him build some up, experience various things. That was the common wisdom around the base.

And yet, Kolivan had assented.

For once, he truly found himself questioning what his leader was thinking. What if it was too much? He'd never seen it happen himself, but there had been acolytes in the past who had broken during the trials. What if Kethe...?

No. Thinking back to the day they'd first met, to the determination that had been in those eyes, Regris realized that there was no chance of that. Whatever form the trials took for him, Kethe would make it through.

Still, on the day they were to be held, Regris went to watch. He had been the one to mentor him, so he was more than welcome to do so.

He understood then, seeing his mindscape for himself, what Kethe had been trying to describe to him that sleepless night months ago. Why such a thing could keep him awake at night, avoiding sleep out of fear of seeing it again.

Kethe's trial was accepting it.

He passed.

Regris had been there to help guide him out. He clutched to his awakened blade, using it as a means to ground himself. Underneath his fur, his skin felt cold to the touch, but though he seemed dazed, Kethe chased his hand away, changing out of the suit he had been given himself.

And into the armor that had been prepared for him.

Clad in it, Kethe's breaths came easier. It brought with it a sense of purpose, Regris sensed. Maybe not a means to take back what had been stolen from him, but a way to let the Galra Empire know just what he had realized, when they had first met- that he was no fragile flower, ready to wilt.

They had taken and taken from him, until he had nothing left to offer but blood and bone- and now he was going to take from them.

He still found him that night, forgoing sleep for training.

This time, he let him be.

* * *

The paladins of Voltron arrived, and Kethe was summoned.

Once again, it was a choice that struck everyone by surprise. Only senior Blades had been summoned to the meeting- he had been surprised that his own name had been on the list as it was.

But Kethe? It had only been a month since he had passed his trials. He hadn't even been on a proper mission yet, just a few basic supply runs. Once again, he was left to wonder just what Kolivan was thinking.

The paladins of Voltron were humans- most of them, at least. Rumor was that the Altean princess flew the red lion, much like her father had in the past. He had grown up hearing stories of the Altean people, thought long dead- they often went hand in hand with the tales of Voltron. But _humans_?

Regris knew nothing about humans, nor even what to expect.

They came from a pre-warp planet, and according to their intelligence, three had been captured on the distant moon of their system by one of Zarkon's scout ships. The black paladin was one of them- the former Champion, who Ulaz had helped escape, so that he might find the blue lion before Zarkon did.

It had been a gamble, but Ulaz always did seem to have luck with those.

Two paladins came- black and blue, judging from their armor. They arrived in the blue lion, of which Regris sneaked a peek of, letting his curiosity oh so briefly get the better of him. It was massive, more so than he had expected. Voltron then, must have been even larger.

The paladins themselves weren't much to look at. Even clad in armor, it was apparent that they had no fangs and no claws, nothing to defend themselves with. Much like the name of their planet, they came in earth tones, one a sandy color, and the other a light brown.

It was hard to think that the black paladin could have dominated the arena as he did. Clearly, though they did not look like much, these humans were not to be underestimated. Especially not if four of them had been chosen by the lions of Voltron.

Even from across the room, he could sense that Kethe's eyes were on the paladins. Glowering at them, most likely. He was minding his tail for once, not letting it thrash about, perhaps sensing the mood.

He didn't know if Kolivan would agree to the alliance. Meeting with the paladins of Voltron had been Ulaz's last wish, and that much, he was willing to carry out. But the Blade of Marmora had survived this long because they operated in secret- if they began to work with the paladins, who were so visible, their existence would become known, putting all their deep cover agents at risk.

It was a dangerous gamble.

One that Kolivan apparently decided was worth it. They already had plans in the works for an assault on Central Command- it was risky, one that would doubtlessly result in loss of life, but with Voltron on their side, that number would be halved.

Two members of the Blade were to accompany Kolivan to the Altean castle-ship. Antok was a natural choice, but there had been a faint murmur when Kethe's name had been called.

The newly minted Blade seemed just as surprised as anyone else, and Regris could almost see the doubt in his eyes behind his mask. He had gotten to know him well during his time here, and the child was always easy to read, his expressions large and drawn out, unlike those of most Galra.

Regris wondered about the choice. He knew that Kethe held a grudge against the paladins- was that why he had been selected? Perhaps as a means to alleviate it- but would Kolivan really pick Kethe just for that reason?

Maybe he intended to inquire with the Altean princess about Kethe's memory loss. He had heard that there were Alteans who had strange and mystical powers, so if there was anyone who could assist Kethe, it was likely Princess Allura.

Neither of those sounded as if they were _bad_ , but somehow didn't quite fit, either. Kolivan was not one to show favoritism, so that option wasn't even one that he considered.

Perhaps it was Kethe's past. Perhaps he had some kind of connection to the paladins of Voltron, though he couldn't imagine _what_.

He caught Kethe's eye as he left, and returned it with a nod of his head. Kethe nodded back, before trailing along after Kolivan, Antok, and the two paladins. When he got back, Regris would be sure to grill him for details- both on what Kolivan had chosen him for, and what it was like to ride in one of the Voltron lions.

But Kethe didn't come back.

Not with Kolivan.

Antok didn't return either, nor did Thace, though his mission was now over. When he learned that they had both perished, a cold fear gripped his heart- and though it broke protocol, he couldn't _not_ ask after Kethe.

To his surprise, Kolivan told him.

"Kethe will be serving as a liaison to the paladins of Voltron."

It was such a simple answer, sensible- but he got the feeling it was leaving something out.

* * *

They met again on the battlefield.

He hadn't even known that Kethe would be a part of the ground forces, until their paths crossed in the blue lion's hangar. They exchanged greetings with each other, but didn't have the time to do much else before it was time to load up.

Today, they would be helping the paladins take back Puig. While they cleared the air, the Blade of Marmora would serve as ground forces, and take out the sentries. Voltron wouldn't be, but the terrain was as such that it made it difficult for the lions to take out the sentry forces without laying waste to the villages that they had entrenched themselves in.

In order to minimize damage, it was the best plan.

It didn't go off without a hitch, but most plans didn't. The heavy artillery canon was _not_ in their initial intelligence reports, so it must have been a recent installation. The yellow paladin was able to take it down with ease, using his lion's heavy armor to drill through solid rock.

They were able to drive out the Galra forces with no loss of life- all in all, a victory.

The looks of mistrust and suspicion that they got from the Puigans were to be expected. Even if they had put their lives on the line to free their home, it would seem that nobody would be so quick as to trust a Galra.

Kethe, though he understood this, clearly did not accept it.

"I don't get it," he told him upon their return to the Altean castle-ship, "-we just helped free them. Why would they treat us like that?"

"Our kind hasn't exactly done much to endear itself to the universe at large." Regris told him, banishing his own mask. "We cannot blame them for being apprehensive. That they allowed our presence at all means something."

"Doesn't mean it's fair." Kethe told him, banishing his own mask, giving way to a frustrated expression. His tail thrashed angrily behind him, cutting through the air like a whip.

"I know it is not." Regris told him. "But some things cannot be helped."

Letting out a long sigh, Kethe's shoulders slumped. "I know. It's just- it's frustrating."

"It is that." Regris agreed, making his way down the blue lion's ramp. "This castle-ship has a training deck, doesn't it? Perhaps we could-"

"Wha- _Keith!?_ "

Blinking, Regris jolted his head up, watching as Kethe did the same, looking in much the same direction. It was the blue paladin- _Lance_ , he recalled his name was- who called out to them, crossing the hangar with a dumbfounded look on his face.

He was sure that he had called Kethe's name, but it had sounded a bit strange. Did he have difficulties pronouncing it? Maybe the sound was not easy on his tongue.

"Lance," Kethe frowned, "-what's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" Lance asked, stopping just short of Kethe, leaving him very little in the way of personal space. "You're asking me what's _wrong_? You just waltzed out of the blue lion, that's what! Allura didn't say _anything_ about you being a part of the ground forces- did you even clear this with her?"

"I cleared it with Kolivan." Kethe told him.

Frowning, Regris glanced between the two. He had not gotten the chance to ask after Kethe's relationship with the paladins, but clearly it was going well if one of their number could sound so worried about him.

"Nope, no sir!" Pulling back a step, Lance glowered up at Kethe. "That doesn't cut it. You could have gotten yourself killed down there."

Narrowing his eyes, the fur on Kethe's tail bristled, clearly misinterpreting where the blue paladin's words were coming from. "I'm _still_ a member of the Blade of Marmora, Lance. I'd rather help with the ground forces than sit around and do nothing."

"Maybe," Lance said, clearly not willing to back down, "-but you're a paladin of Voltron first."

And _that_ was where Regris nearly choked on his own spit. Eyes wide, he fixed his stare on Kethe, trying to process what he had just heard. "Kethe is a _paladin_?"

The blue paladin- who clearly had forgotten he was there, judging from his reaction- started. Glancing towards Regris, then towards Kethe, then back at Regris again, he furrowed his brows- before looking back up at Kethe. "Wait- hold on. I thought the Blade knew."

No! The Blade most certainly did not!

"Kolivan said it'd be best to keep it under wraps." Kethe said. "So thanks, Lance, for just blurting it out for the whole world to hear."

To his credit, Lance had the mind to look guilty. "Oh uh- whoops?"

"Well, I know _now_." Regris cut in, locking his gaze with Kethe. "Is it true?"

Now it was Kethe's turn to look guilty, he thought. His tail drooped, the young Blade pointedly looking everywhere _but_ his face. "I- yeah. It's- the situation is complicated."

Glancing between the two Galra, Lance took half a step back. "I should- I should check with Hunk to see if that Puigan ambassador made it onto the Castle okay."

Regris knew a strategic retreat when he saw one, and the blue paladin made no attempts to hide it. He waited until he was gone, before he let out a breath, carefully studying Kethe. "Complicated?"

"Complicated." Kethe echoed. "I don't even know where to _start_."

"How about with which lion?" Regris asked.

At that, Kethe gave him a faint smile. "The red lion."

At that, something in Regris' head clicked. There had been rumors, ages ago, that the red paladin had been captured by the Galra Empire. They didn't last long- the red lion still flew, and therefore must have still had a paladin.

Unless the paladin had been replaced.

In which case... _Kethe_ was the original paladin of the red lion.

Which meant...

"Did you remember?" Regris asked.

Kethe's face fell, and he almost regretted asking. "No, nothing. I thought that maybe..." Trailing off, Kethe shook his head. "Nothing's come back to me. I've just- everything I know, someone's told me, and even then, it's not much. And what I have, is..."

Running a hand through his hair, Kethe searched for the right words. "Human- I used to be _human_ , Regris. Or at least _part_ human. Enough to look it. Not," motioning to himself, "-not like this. Not Galra."

At that, Regris couldn't help but wince. If he hadn't told him that, he might have never guessed. Any human in him had thoroughly been masked. "Do you know-?"

"No." Kethe said, shaking his head, sensing what he wanted to ask. What he looked like- or used to. "I haven't been able to ask yet. I'm not sure if I even _want_ to know."

Blinking, Regris frowned. "I thought you did?"

"I- yeah, before I knew I used to be another race entirely!" Kethe told him, throwing up his hands. "I'm _Galra_ , Regris, that's just- that's all I know. And now suddenly I'm supposed to be _human_? How am I supposed to handle that?!"

Shoulders slumping, Kethe closed his eyes. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I can't be the person they want me to be. I don't even know who that _is_."

"They've been searching all this time for this- this _Keith Kogane_ , and instead what they end up with is _me_. I'm not- I'm not him, I don't even know who that _is_ , Regris!" He had never heard Kethe so _lost_ before, his words coming out like a dam burst. "I thought- I thought finding out who I am would give me a sense of identity, but now all I feel like is some kind of bodysnatcher."

Regris blinked. That was not a word he knew. "Bodysnatcher?"

"Yeah, like," running a hand through his hair, Kethe racked his brain for the meaning, "-like I'm just some alien who came and took their friend's body for his own."

Letting out a dry laugh, Kethe sunk to the floor, crouching there. "That's exactly what I am, aren't I? I'm a fucking _bodysnatcher_."

For a long moment, Regris didn't even know what to say. What could he? He knew who he was, secure in that knowledge. They would be hard pressed to find someone who could relate to Kethe's issues, scouring the universe only to turn up no one.

But he could try.

"Kethe," crouching down in front of him, Regris rested a hand on his shoulder, "-you don't have to do this if it's too much for you. You can just be Kethe."

"No I _can't_ , Regris." Looking up at him, Kethe wrung his hands. "I'm not supposed to be Kethe. That's- I'm not even a real person."

"You exist." Regris told him. "Here and now. If that is not real, then what is?"

Hanging his head again, Kethe's tail curled around his legs. "I know, I know that, but I just- I don't know, Regris. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, or even who I'm supposed to be."

"They've all- everyone here has been waiting for Keith, and I-" Shaking his head, he chanced a look back up at him, doubt etched into his features, "-what if they already know? That I'm not- that I can't be him. What if they're just tolerating me so they can form Voltron?"

"I don't think Voltron works that way." Regris said.

"I know, but," heaving a long sigh, Kethe let out a weak laugh, "-I'm a mess."

"That you are." Regris agreed- glad to hear the growl, however slight, that accompanied his agreement. "What you've learned is a lot for anyone to process, especially at your age. You need to give it time."

"I know I do." Kethe told him. "It's just- what if they get sick of me?"

"Do you not wish them to?" Regris asked.

"I don't- I don't know." Kethe confessed. "They're- the paladins are the only connection I have to my past. And I don't- I can't afford to lose them."

Nodding his head, Regris could understand that. "Do you think they would?"

"I don't know that either." Kethe told him. "I think the princess hates my guts. And I'm pretty sure Lance doesn't like me."

"I can't speak for the princess, but I can assure you, the blue paladin doesn't dislike you." Regris told him.

"How can you be sure?" Kethe asked, frowning. "You saw what just happened. He's always trying to pick a fight with me like that."

"I don't know about the other times, but I believe this time, he was just worried about you." Regris pointed out- and watched as the realization dawned across Kethe's face.

"Oh." Brow furrowing, Kethe's tail twitched. "Why wouldn't he just _say_ that?"

"Have you ever heard Kolivan express worry?" Regris asked.

"No." Kethe said, tilting his head. "Huh. I guess you're right."

"Of course I am." Regris told him. "I recommended that you try at it a bit longer. Now," getting to his feet, he offered the young Blade a hand up, "-why don't you show me this training deck I've heard about? A good spar could take your mind off things."

Finally cracking a smile, Kethe took his hand, letting him haul him to his feet. "...thanks, Regris."

"Remember," Regris said, "-you always have a home with the Blade of Marmora."

* * *

Kethe did not return to the Blade of Marmora.

Perhaps just getting out his feelings helped, because he only doubled his efforts to get to know his fellow paladins. It seemed to bear fruit- the few times that he contacted him, his expression looked better than it had been.

He still had anxieties- but that was to be expected. Regris listened, giving him advice where he could, but they both realized that this was largely out of his depth.

Having someone that he could speak openly to seemed to help. Even from a distance, Regris could tell that his relationship with his fellow paladins was improving- he still remembered the first time he had called him, when the first thing that came out of his mouth was that they _cared_.

"They care about _me_ , Regris." Kethe had told him. " _Me_."

Him. Not Keith Kogane, but _Kethe_.

He wondered if the paladins knew how much that meant to him.

He did not get many chances to speak with them- sometimes they would pay Kethe a visit when he was hiding away from the aftermath of a battle in the red lion. Should they be on a mission together, he would often be there with him. Calls were great, but nothing beat catching up in person.

"It suits you, you know."

Kethe made a face, glancing down at the paladin armor. "It just feels _clunky_. There wasn't even space in the helmet for my braid until Pidge cut a hole into the back of it."

At that, he gave him a grin. Much as he would deny it, he knew that he'd taken to styling his hair in braid out of respect for Kolivan.

"I like it." Regris told him. "I never dreamed I would see the day that a Galra would be back to flying one of the lions of Voltron."

"Yeah, because we all know how well that worked out the first time." Kethe said. It was a joke, and a clear one, but it spelled out just why he was hiding away like this, instead of joining the other paladins at the grand banquet held in their honor.

He may have learned of the human half of his heritage, but Kethe still thought of himself as Galra. There were so few signs of it, other than the sheen of his hair and his small stature, that it was likely difficult for him to embrace that half of himself. Had he never lost his memories, never been captured, Regris wondered if what they would have instead was a human struggling to come to terms with the Galra blood he bore.

Perhaps the Kethe of the past already knew, but no one would ever know for sure. He carried a knife bearing the symbol of the Blade of Marmora, but had the sense to keep the hilt hidden. Whether it was out of paranoid fear of possessing something different, or knowledge of what it meant, it was impossible to say.

It was funny, Regris thought. He didn't know what kind of connection that Keith Kogane might have had to the Blade of Marmora, but to think he had wound up being drawn back to them... perhaps that was fate, just as it was when the red lion chose him.

He suspected Kolivan knew of the blade's origins, but he was keeping that close to himself. Since no one had stepped forward to claim it- or Kethe- he could only assume that whoever they were, they were currently in the middle of a deep cover mission, and had other concerns.

"You are no Zarkon." Regris told him.

"I know." Kethe said, tail flicking behind him. "Tell that to them, though."

"Tell that to who?"

The small voice startled the both of them- if he had fur much in the same way Kethe did, Regris was sure his would have bristled just the same. The green paladin always had quiet steps, and lost in conversation as they were, the two Blades barely noticed her approach until she was nearly right on top of them.

Bearing food.

"Hey Kethe." The green paladin- _Pidge_ , such a curious name- greeted her fellow paladin. "And it's Regris, right?"

"Indeed." Regris told her with a nod of his head.

"Okay, cool." Pidge said. "Anyways, Hunk told me to bring you some food. Thought you might be getting a bit hungry by now. I guess you can share with your friend if you want?"

 _Friend_? Regris blinked at the word. He had never thought of it, but yes, he supposed in a sense, they were friends. Kethe certainly did not protest to it.

"I was. Thanks, Pidge." Kethe told her, getting to his feet. "I thought you were babysitting Lance, though."

"Hunk's turn." Pidge told him, passing over her burden to him, which he set down in the middle of the floor, plopping down right in front of it. She joined him without hesitation. "Hence why I'm here, and not him."

"Also because I was starting to get a little burned out." Pidge confessed after a second. "Any chance I can hide here for awhile?"

"Fine with me." Kethe remarked, glancing up at him. "Regris?"

"I do not see why not." Regris told her, sinking into a sitting position much like the other two. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Kethe's tail looped itself around his waist, even as he reached for what he could only assume was one of the local delicacies.

"Great, thanks." Pidge said. "It's not that I _hate_ parties, it's just that there's only so much party I can take."

"So instead you'd rather hang out with a pair of Galra." Kethe dryly observed.

"Eh, beats recounting how we took back the planet for the tenth time." Pidge said with a shrug. "Guess they'll just be stuck with Lance's version."

Kethe let out a snort at that. "Right, the one where he did all the cool stuff."

"Not _all_ the cool stuff." Pidge told him. "I mean, he still lets Shiro do his cool stuff."

Listening to the two paladins banter, Regris felt himself relax. After that day in the blue lion's hangar, it was heartening to hear Kethe speak to one of his fellow paladins this way.

Clearly, trying had paid off.

* * *

They shouldn't have gone on this mission.

That was the last thought in his head as the explosion rocked the ship.

* * *

"Whoa there, take it easy."

Groaning, Regris placed a hand on his head. It wasn't that it _hurt_ , it simply felt groggy, his thoughts unclear- and the bright lights certainly weren't helping matters. That, and the chill seeping from his bones combined to make him rather disorientated, unsteady on his feet.

He was struck by the sense that something was missing, but he couldn't begin to place _what_.

"Where-?" He croaked out, dimly aware that someone else was in the room with him, but unable to place their voice right away. Normally, this would be cause for concern, but he felt like he at least _recognized_ it, and not in a bad way.

"You're on the Castle." The voice spoke again- and this time, he placed it. The black paladin, Shiro.

"The Castle?" Regris blinked, trying to focus his vision. The black paladin swam into view, and he dimly became aware that he seemed to be in a med bay of some kind. "The Castle of Lions?"

"That's the one." Shiro told him. "Keep it down a bit, though."

He nudged his head in one direction, and Regris frowned, following it with his gaze. It did not take him long to determine why- there was Kethe, fast asleep, leaning against one of the healing pods. Dimly, he realized that he had been _in_ one- which explained the chill that was fading from him, as his core slowly warmed up.

Which meant he had been hurt.

In a flash, his memories came back to him. The mission, the decoy ship, the _bomb_ -

-and let himself breathe. Obviously if he was here, then things must have worked out somehow. Kethe looked no worse for wear, other than a few minor scrapes and bruises that he could barely even make out past his fur. Mostly, he just looked tired.

"He's been staying up to look after you." Shiro told him. "I told him you'd be fine, but he can be pretty stubborn when it comes to this sort of thing."

There was a trace of fondness to the black paladin's words- and he recalled, suddenly, how Kethe had told him once that the two used to have a bond that ran deep between them. That bond had been severed on one end, and he often worried that there would be no fixing it.

To him, it seemed there was no need for that. There was no need to fix what clearly wasn't broken.

"He won't be happy to find out he slept through this." Regris remarked.

"No, he won't." Shiro admitted. "But I think we can afford to let him sleep a little longer. Do you remember what happened?"

"A bomb went off." Regris reported. "After that, nothing."

"The red lion tore its way out of the hangar to get to Keith. Took you with it- Kolivan too." Shiro said. "Allura was able to open a wormhole to get the three of you back here. You might not have made it otherwise."

Blinking, Regris glanced back towards Kethe. Had he called the red lion, or had it merely come on its own? Either way, it was such a display of loyalty, that there could no longer be any question as to who its true paladin was.

"I owe them both my thanks, then." Regris told him. "How long have I been-?"

"Three days, give or take." Shiro reported, and Regris couldn't help but grimace. "Keith hasn't left the infirmary since you went into the pod. We got him to eat, but I'm pretty sure this is the first time he's slept since then."

As if he heard them, Kethe let out a low moan, stirring in his sleep. Cracking one eye open, he frowned, clearly still half asleep. "...regris?"

And then his eyes snapped open, Kethe springing to his feet. "Regris!"

"...and I guess he's awake now." Shiro remarked.

"You're awake!" Kethe said, before frowning, turning to Shiro. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"Sorry," apologetic, Shiro was quick to reply, "-just thought you could use the rest, Keith. Promise me you'll get some actual sleep later?"

Frowning, Kethe furrowed his brows. "Fine. But not until Regris gets a clean bill of health."

"I'd better hurry and do that then." Regris remarked.

"I'll go get Coran." Shiro told him, nodding his head. "I'll send word to Kolivan while I'm at."

With a faint smile, Shiro dismissed himself from the med bay. Turning back towards Kethe, he noted that his frown hadn't faded- if anything, it had only grown deeper. His gaze was fixed not on him, but behind him, his brow creased with guilt.

Frowning, Regris glanced behind him, wondering what it was that had him so upset.

...ah.

So that's why he felt as if something was missing.

His tail had been cut off, leaving behind only a short stub. The skin had healed over, leaving no trace of any scars, but it was no wonder that he found himself so unsteady on his feet. Taking a halting step forward, Regris frowned, the small action having him wavering on his feet, and Kethe rushing to support him.

"We tried to save it." Kethe hurriedly explained. "But you could have died during the time it took to remove all the shrapnel from it, and leaving it in wasn't an option. We had to make a call."

"You made a good one." Regris assured him. "I'm rather fond of not being dead."

In spite of himself, Kethe let out an ugly snort. "I thought you would be mad."

"Mad at myself, mostly." Regris observed. "I should have run."

"It was my call to plant the tracker." Kethe told him- and ah, there it was, the guilt. He knew he was hiding that somewhere. "If we'd just _left_ -"

"-then I would still have a tail." Regris finished, watching as Kethe's face fall. "Yes, that's true. But I don't blame you, Kethe. Is Kolivan to blame for agreeing with you?"

"No, he's-" Kethe began.

"-then you are not to blame either." Regris finished. "Still, I do not think I will be fit to run missions for some time. I can barely stand."

The smile Kethe gave him was faint, but still there. "Not so easy, is it?"

"No, it's not." Regris told him. "It seems I'm the one who needs to try now, aren't I?"

"Yeah," Kethe said, "-guess so."


	10. matt side

Back with the next update! And look, Matt's here! Next update will be the last one for a short while, but I should be back soon to this story. It's so awkward uploading this one onto FFnet because I'm using the series function for it over on AO3, but it's a lot harder to do that here. Only so many times you can add _sequel to (blank), sequel to (blank)_ in the description before it becomes like, the whole description.

Anyways, until next time!

* * *

 **abyss of memory**

 **matt side**

* * *

The first time he met Keith, it was maybe a month before the scheduled launch of the Kerberos mission. He remembers, because Keith was the kind of guy who was hard to forget.

It had been at a commencement party for the mission, a celebration for its crew and staff, and their families. His mom and Pidge were there, until the latter wasn't, their father sneaking her off for a sneak peek of the shuttle they would be using for the mission.

He knew Shiro was somewhere around, but he'd been expecting him to come alone. From the sound of it, things hadn't exactly been going well with his fiancee lately, although he wasn't one to pry. Romantic disputes were not his forte, so he was probably better off not getting involved.

Turned out, Shiro wasn't alone.

He actually wasn't sure how Shiro had gotten clearance to bring Keith to the party. He wasn't exactly family, at least, not in the biological or legal sense. Maybe he had just walked right in with him, and hadn't let anyone dare challenge him. For someone who was touted as the Galaxy Garrison's golden boy, he could be something of a rebel.

In any case, it was his first introduction to Keith Kogane.

And in a sense, his last.

He had heard of him, of course. It was kind of hard _not_ to. He was the prodigy who had been shattering records lately, but at the same time, was viewed as being something of a problem child. He'd heard the word _orphan_ thrown around a few times, and _anger issues_ a few times more than that, but above all, what he had heard about him the most was _talent_.

The next Takashi Shirogane.

(So they were already thinking of replacing him.)

"Keith," Shiro rested a hand on the cadet's shoulder, smiling down at him, "-this is Matthew Holt. He's going to be flying to Kerberos with me."

Holding out his hand, Keith stared at him. "Nice to meet you."

His eyes, Matt thought, were the most interesting color he'd ever seen. He couldn't pinpoint just what they were, exactly. Blue? Gray? _Purple_?

He almost didn't look like he was of this world.

"Nice to meet you too, Keith." Matt said, taking his hand. Kid had a firm grip. "You can call me Matt."

"Any chance Katie's around?" Shiro asked. "I was hoping to finally get a chance to meet her. Maybe introduce her to Keith."

And there was an undertone to his words that he quickly picked up on. He had never heard anything about Keith having friends, which seemed to be a situation that Shiro was hoping to rectify.

"Dad took her to see the shuttle." Matt told him. "I don't think they'll be back for awhile."

"...are they supposed to be doing that?" Keith asked, arching a brow.

"Technically, no." Matt told him, giving him a wink. "But hey- what the Garrison doesn't know, won't hurt them, right?"

Keith just gave him a blank stare- ouch, tough crowd.

"Too bad, I guess." Shiro said. "Maybe I'll get a chance at the launch."

"Hope so." Matt told him. "I think Katie's pretty excited to meet you too. You're basically a hero at our place."

Letting out a chuckle, Shiro modestly dismissed that. "I'm just doing my job."

"Yeah, better than everyone else." Keith muttered, half underneath his breath.

Casting a grin down towards Keith, Shiro ruffled his hair, causing the teen to grumble, swatting his hand away. It just made Shiro laugh, flashing the kind of smile that Matt sometimes wondered if he'd ever get to see again.

When he had been captured by the Galra, he'd thought that would be it. That would be the end of things. He would never get back home, never see his family again. He was going to die here, either rotting away in a cell, or being executed in the gladiator arena.

Until Shiro took away his chances of the latter.

He'd cut him just enough to draw blood, but not enough to actually leave any kind of lasting injury. He was healed and back on his feet in maybe two weeks time- but the Galra didn't have to know that. He'd faked a limp, and it had been enough to keep him from being sent back to the gladiator arena, and put into a work camp.

He'd been hoping to find his father, but he'd had no such luck. He'd apparently already been transferred. Something about being a _valuable scientific asset_. Which hey, what was he- chopped liver?

He didn't spend long at the work camp before he was freed. Rebels, from the borderlands, who raided the ship by chance looking for one of their comrades. They had only been able to break out a handful of prisoners in the same prison block as him, but he'd been one of the lucky few.

He asked them about his father, but they said they didn't know.

They knew about Shiro, though. But what they knew, he knew- _everyone_ had heard the stories of the Champion, and it didn't take him long to realize that they were talking about _Shiro_. They couldn't tell him where to find him, though- the only time anyone knew where he was, was when he was brought to Central Command to fight in matches, and that, of course, was out of the question.

So he became a rebel.

His father was out there somewhere, and he intended to find him. Joining the resistance sounded like it was his best bet. He'd find him, and then go back home. Tell everyone on Earth what was going on out here, maybe bring a rebel or two along as proof, see what they could do to both prepare, and join the fight against Zarkon.

He just didn't expect his sister to come up to space to find him first.

In hindsight, he should have. That was Pidge for you. When she said she'd do something, she usually meant it, no matter how implausible.

Coming up to space to get him if he took too long? Should have taken her at her word.

She was a paladin of Voltron, to boot.

He'd been proud of his sister before, but now? Now he could barely contain his pride. His sister! A paladin!

He had heard the legends of the paladins of Voltron, how they had challenged Zarkon and won. How they were making real, lasting change in the universe, freeing system after system, building a Coalition of planets with the goal of toppling the Galra Empire, once and for all.

And his sister was part of that.

 _And_ she was bringing him back to meet the rest of the paladins.

So yeah- Matt was more than a little bit excited. He was about to meet _legends_.

* * *

In hindsight, he had to wonder how he'd missed the fact that they'd all been human.

Or well- almost all of them.

* * *

"And this is the," suddenly cutting herself short, his sister dropped her voice by several decibels, "-we'll just come back here later."

"...pidge?"

Guilt overcame his sister's features, as she all but flinched at the faint voice that seemed to drift up from the circular couch. His eyes fell on a lump of purple and black, standing out against the white and pale gray of the room. For a moment, he felt his blood freeze, watching as the Galra uncurled itself from the couch, before he exhaled.

He'd heard the rumors, but apparently, they were true.

Olia had briefed him that lately she had been working with the Blade of Marmora, a group of Galran rebels and spies, who had previously been working underground. They had only come to light once they'd forged an alliance with Voltron, enacting a plan that brought Zarkon's reign to an end.

He'd also heard rumor that there was one on the Castle of Lions- the flagship of the paladins of Voltron, serving as a liaison of some kind. Olia had described him as young, but capable, and just a bit on the odd side- a halfbreed of some kind, if what she had heard was true. Apparently he was on good terms with the paladins.

So yes, he guessed he sort of expected to find a Galra on the Castle of Lions. He just hadn't expected to find them fast asleep, curled up like a cat. Nor did he expect his sister to wave her hands in front of her, desperate to lull him back to sleep.

"Uh, this is a dream...?"

Cracking one golden eye open, the Galra merely stared blankly at Pidge. "...why do people keep doing that?"

Groaning, Pidge hung her head. "Can't blame me for trying."

Keeping one eye on the Galra, Matt dimly heard Pidge say something that this was the lounge, where they just hung out. It wasn't the presence of a Galra that was bothering him- his sister obviously didn't think much of his presence here, and if she didn't, he was going to trust her.

It was just... there was something vaguely _familiar_ about this one.

They were clad in Blade of Marmora armor, which didn't look as if it was the most comfortable thing to sleep in. The color of their hair struck him- black, a color he didn't see often, if ever, on the Galra. It was braided, the Galra looping it around their neck as they slowly curled themselves.

Galra with tails weren't exactly common, and he couldn't help but notice that this one had one akin to a lion's. There was a tuft of black fur at the end, that matched the color of his hair- although the sheen of it was a bit different. In the back of his mind, he couldn't shake the irony, and had to wonder if the reason he'd been chosen for his position was because of his lion's tail.

Probably not, but hey- a guy could dream.

Letting out a loud yawn, the Galra slowly blinked, now in a sitting position. His tail flicked lazily behind him, casting a curious eye up towards Matt. "...this your brother?"

Wait.

That voice.

He _knew_ that voice. But where had he...?

No. No way. That- that didn't make any sense. How could...?

"Wha- _Keith!?_ "

Oh man, he hadn't meant to blurt that out. What if he was wrong? He _had_ to be wrong, there was no way this could have been _Keith Kogane_. Even if the closer he looked, the more apparent it became that they shared some of the same facial features, even if their voices were the same, none of that mattered because this couldn't possibly be-

"You know me?"

The Galra was now staring straight at him, golden eyes locked onto him. Like countless others he had seen, there was no trace of a pupil, making them hard to read.

Nothing like the otherworldly eyes whose color he couldn't quite make out.

"Wait," Pidge frowned, turning sharply on her heel, "-Matt, you knew Keith?"

"I-" Matt opened his mouth to begin, before firmly shutting it, looking between his sister and then at the Galra that apparently _was_ Keith. "I mean, I met him once at the commencement party, but-"

Shiro. He thought he'd been acting a little odd, when he'd spoken to him. Like he had some kind of secret joke, or something. Suddenly turning on his heel, he squinted, trying to see if he had been following them or not, if this was all some kind of elaborate prank.

But no.

Looking back at Keith, that was no costume. The way his ears perked when he looked back in his direction, there was no way to fake that. Nor the effortless grace with which he mounted the couch, coming to stand in front of him, peering curiously up at his face.

Besides, Shiro wasn't much of one for pranks.

Heaving a sigh, Pidge rubbed her forehead. "Okay, if I knew that, I would have given you some kind of warning. You heard the rumors that the red paladin of Voltron had been captured, right?"

"I mean, yeah, but I thought those were just _rumors_." Matt told her. "I thought- doesn't Princess Allura fly the red lion?"

"She did, temporarily." Pidge told her. "But it picked Keith first."

"I have amnesia." Keith suddenly supplied. "So if you knew me, sorry, I don't know you."

Okay, that explained why he didn't seem to recognize him. He sort of just assumed that he hadn't proven himself to be that memorable, but guess not. But amnesia didn't explain everything, not by a long shot.

And boy, was there a lot here to explain.

Starting with- how was Keith _Galra_? _Why_ was Keith Galra? Where did he get amnesia from? Why was he with the Blade of Marmora? Why hadn't Shiro thought to mention this to him, that jerk?!

"Keith, you got your memories stolen by a spooky space witch." Pidge told him, which was one hell of a statement to throw out there so casually. "Kind of not the same thing as amnesia."

Keith merely shrugged. "Amnesia takes less time to say."

"Wait- hold up. What's this about a spooky space witch?" Matt asked, holding up his hands. "Is that why Keith's Galra now? Is this- is this some kind of curse? It's not contagious, is it?"

What was he, like a _were-Galra_ or something? Oh no, what if he _was_ contagious? Purple was not his color, and he didn't know the first thing about proper fur care! Not on himself!

"Basically, Keith got caught, Haggar-," and he didn't miss the sharp way Keith's eyes narrowed at the name, nor the way his fur bristled, "-found out he was half-Galra, and now we have the Keith that stands here today."

"I'm getting the feeling you left like, a ton of stuff out." Matt noted, before pausing, rolling back what she said a bit. "...also wait. You mean to tell me that all this time, there was an alien enrolled at the Galaxy Garrison."

"I mean, we don't know if Keith _knew_ or not, but... yeah?" Pidge told him.

"I'm starting to get the feeling that past me was an elusive asshole." Keith muttered, seemingly half to himself. "So you're... Pidge's brother, right? The one she was looking for?"

Blinking, Matt took a moment to study Keith. He was looking at him with what he now recognized as marked curiosity- it kind of reminded him of a cat, in a way. As strange as it was to introduce himself to someone he'd already met, he guessed Keith wouldn't know who he was, would he?

That... that must suck.

Did that mean he didn't remember _Shiro_ either? He winced at the thought. They had been so close- how was he handling it?

"Oh, uh, yeah." Holding out his hand, Matt gave him an awkward smile. "I'm Matt."

Nodding his head, Keith gripped his forearm, a gesture that had him blink. It was a decidedly Galran one- he had seen it a number of times before. Combined with the Blade of Marmora armor, he had to wonder how long Keith had been entrenched in Galran society after losing his memories.

"Matt," Keith repeated, "-I'm Keith. Kethe works too."

Enough to get a new name, apparently.

He wanted to ask about it, but didn't get the chance. The doors to the lounge slid open, Hunk creeping in- only for a half a step, before his eyes fell on Keith.

"Aw man, you guys woke up Keith?" He asked. "How could you?"

"I tried not to!" Pidge protested.

"Yeah, but I told you he was napping in the lounge!" Hunk pointed out. Oh, so _that's_ what he'd said to her when he'd pulled her aside for a second. He'd been wondering about that. "I told you, _very specifically_ , that he'd just come back from a big Blade mission, and that he was exhausted, so you just needed to let him rest."

"I forgot, okay!" Pidge huffed.

"Forgot? It was like, half an hour ago, Pidge!" Hunk said.

"I don't mind." Keith frowned. "I wanted to meet Pidge's brother too. Although it turns out we've already met...?"

"To be fair," Matt told him, "-it was just the one time. I wouldn't stress about it, dude."

Nodding his head, the tip of Keith's tail twitched, as he took notice of the tray Hunk was carrying. He could have sworn he saw his nose twitch, like he was sniffing the air. "What's that?"

"Oh!" Glancing down, as if he had forgotten what he was carrying himself, Hunk beamed. "Milkshakes! Since you know, Matt is here and all, I thought I'd whip up something special for the occasion. Made one for you too, Keith! Was just gonna leave it here with a note, but I guess you're awake now, so-!"

Keith frowned at that, his brows knitting together. "You shook milk?"

"Just a name, buddy." Hunk told him.

"Wait," frowning, Matt glance down at Keith, "-you don't know what a _milkshake_ is?"

"Like I said," Pidge began, pausing to sip her own milkshake, which he hadn't even noticed she'd taken, before she continued, "-Keith had his memories stolen by a space witch. _All_ of them."

All of-? Yikes.

He'd thought she just meant his personal memory, but from the sound of it, she'd taken way more than that from him. That _had_ to be rough. Granted, he didn't understand how it worked like, at all, nor what Haggar would even want with them, but still- rough.

He knew who Haggar was, recognized that name. He had heard it whispered by prisoners before, always in a fearful manner, more so than the druids. At the time, the only thing he knew about her was that she was clearly someone to avoid, and the more he learned about her as a rebel, the more his early thoughts were just confirmed.

So for Keith to have attracted her attention... bad. That was clearly bad.

Taking one of the milkshakes from the tray, Keith peered down at it curiously. Giving it a sniff, he frowned, before taking a small sip, his tail perking up. "It's sweet!"

...okay, that was cute, though.

"Regris tried to drink his in one gulp- which, trust me, bad choice." Hunk noted. "Guess Galra get brain freeze. _Alteans_ , on the other hand... man, I have _never_ seen someone drink a milkshake so fast. Allura and Coran totally just demolished theirs."

"So don't drink it fast." Keith said. "Got it."

Watching as Keith took his milkshake with him back to the couches, he watched as his tail curled around his waist, darting out of the way so that he didn't sit on it. To be frank, he was still reeling from everything that he had learned in like, the past ten minutes, but that just about summed up like, his entire time in space.

Except... had Keith _really_ not known he was part Galra? What if he'd...?

No. Nope. Not going there.

Even if he knew, he seriously doubted the kid that had followed Shiro like a shadow at the commencement party would have ever sold him out to an evil alien empire. No, that was pure coincidence. Besides- why capture and steal the memories of one of your own agents? It didn't make any sense.

Unless Keith was a traitor, which- no, that still didn't make sense.

"So," it was Hunk's voice that broke through his thoughts, "-what have you been doing all this time?"

* * *

"We went to an alternate reality once. It was lame."

Keith, _fervently_ , nodded his head in agreement.

(He didn't find out about the _hoktril_ until later. Alternate realities- officially canceled.)

* * *

God, what a day.

First, he'd found his sister- okay, so his sister had found _him_ , he'd be fair- then found out she was a _paladin_ , then he met the _rest_ of the paladins, one of whom turned out to be _Shiro_ , flown in _Voltron_ , learned Emperor Zarkon was still alive, and now Prince Lotor was an enemy of the state.

And there was the whole _Keith_ thing. That too.

All that, in just one day.

No wonder he was so goddamn tired.

He simply was not built for this. Closing his eyes, he didn't even care he had missed the couch, by like, _miles_ , and was basically just lying on the floor, with only his legs having actually made it. He had spent the last hour in a call with Captain Olia and Lieutenant Ozar, going over what this new information meant, and all he wanted to do now was just take a chance to relax.

"You okay?"

Snapping his eyes open, he jerked up at the sound of the voice. Which- yeah, bad choice, since he ended up colliding with it. Literally.

Oh god, he'd just headbutted _Keith_.

Clutching at his forehead, Keith glared at him with accusation, tail thrashing wildly behind him. He had changed out of his Blade armor- now wearing what could only be casual clothes. Earth fashion, he thought. "What did you do that for!?"

"I- you startled me!" Matt blurted out.

Keith let out a low growl, baring his teeth at him. It would have been intimidating, were it not for the fact that he was still nursing his forehead. The feeling was mutual, though- holy crap, did Keith ever have a hard head.

Note to self- never headbutt a Galra.

"I swear, I didn't do it on purpose!" Matt said quickly. "I didn't even know you were here!"

Frowning, Keith still didn't look happy, but at least he wasn't growling at him anymore. Dropping his hand from his forehead, he shuffled back, presumably so that he was out of range of any further forehead based attacks. Guess his Blade of Marmora training hadn't prepared him for them.

"So this is the thanks I get for coming to check up on you." He grumbled, visibly pouting. "You _attack_ me."

Grunting, he swung his legs off the couch- making sure they went in the opposite direction of Keith, just in case he thought that was another attack. Pushing himself up into a sitting position, he watched as Keith tensed, eyeing him with suspicion.

"I swear to God, I didn't mean to." Matt told him. "And wait- you came to check on me?"

Brow furrowing, Keith slowly nodded his head. "I couldn't find you."

Wait, Keith had been looking for him? Why?

"I mean, I'm fine." Matt told him. "Just a bit wiped. It's been a long day."

Nodding his head, he watched as Keith slowly relaxed, apparently deciding he wasn't a threat. "Your family found you."

Blinking, Matt frowned. He would have thought that he would have gone for like, Zarkon being alive, or Lotor being an outlaw, but no, he'd gone for Pidge. Thinking back on it, Keith had been an orphan, hadn't he?

Except- he didn't remember that, did he? Or had someone told him?

...actually, _was_ Keith an orphan? If he was half-Galra, then logically, one of his parents had to have been Galra, so in that case, there was a chance that one of them was actually _alive_.

"I- yeah." Nodding his head, Matt beamed, trying not to dwell too long on it. "That she did."

For a long time, all Keith did was stare at him. He wasn't going to lie, it kind of made him nervous. Maybe it was just the eyes- he couldn't read him at all- but his expression was totally blank.

"Shiro told me it was my mother who was Galra. Probably."

And that was a sudden admission he did not expect. He hadn't even _asked_. I mean- he'd thought about it, but what was he, a mind reader?

Oh no. Telepathic Galra. His second greatest fear.

"I'm going to look for her." Keith said, just as suddenly. "I hope you find your father."

Oh- _oh_! He was trying to relate!

Aw, that was sweet! Awkward, but sweet. _No_ idea what brought it on, but hey- he'd take it.

"I hope you find your mom." Matt told him, meaning every word of it.

Nodding his head, Keith still seemed to frown, and then, without warning, drew a knife. The action made him jump, but thankfully Keith either didn't notice, or didn't think much of it. "She's Blade of Marmora. This knife is hers. I think Kolivan knows who she is, but he won't tell me."

Huh. He didn't remember Keith being this willing to talk about himself- but uh, guess maybe losing his memory had sort of affected his personality. Or was this his attempt to get to know him? Talk about something they sort of had in common? Missing parents?

"Maybe she's deep cover?" Matt suggested.

"That's what I think." Keith agreed, mercifully sheathing the knife. "What's your mom like?"

Yep, definitely trying to get to know him. Just painfully, painfully awkward about it. Granted, the Keith he knew hadn't _exactly_ had an abundance of social skills- clearly amnesia had done them no favor.

"Uh, nice?" Matt frowned. "She made the _best_ peanut butter cookies. And uh- smart, too. Always- always knew what to say when I was feeling down. Or Pidge."

Aw man, now he missed her.

Or well, he _always_ missed her, but now he missed her more than he usually did. At least he knew she was safe on Earth, unlike his father, which helped. But it didn't change the feeling of wanting to see her again.

Now, with Voltron, maybe that would become possible.

He was pretty sure Keith hadn't meant to do that, though. How could someone who didn't remember his own family know what it was like to miss them?

That sounded a bit mean. He'd just keep that to himself.

Keith, for his part, seemed to hang on every word. It struck him that he must not know what it was like to have a parent child relationship, a realization that stung. Even if he was an orphan, it would have still been something he would have known at some point in his life, and now it was just... gone.

Christ, having your memories stolen by a spooky space witch sounded like it _stunk_.

"I'll help you look," Keith spoke up, just as sudden as before, "-for your father."

"Thanks, Keith." Matt told him. "That means a lot."

"There's nothing in the Blade of Marmora database, in case you were wondering." Keith told him. "I checked."

Ah, too bad. He was just about to ask that, actually. "Ah well. Can't be that easy, right?"

Shaking his head, Keith frowned. "Wish it was. Pidge seems to miss him. She missed you. Although," tilting his head, he added, "-she did forget to tell me about you until like, a few weeks ago? I think she forgot I forgot."

Frowning, Matt folded his arms in front of him. "Well now I just feel offended."

Cracking a faint grin, Keith caught the sarcasm. "She felt pretty embarrassed."

"As she should," Matt told him, placing a hand on his chest, puffing it out, "-I'm great, how _dare_ she forget about me?"

Keith flinched at that, smile falling off his face. He jolted to his feet so quickly, it nearly gave him whiplash, and it was only then that he fully realized just what he had said.

Oh.

Oh shit.

"Wait, Keith, that's not what I-!"

And he was gone.

Groaning, Matt hung his head. Christ, way to blow it. He'd basically just told Keith that forgetting him was like, some kind of _crime_. Even if he'd clearly meant it as a joke, that had to have some sting to it.

Right. Smacking either side of his face, Matt jolted to his feet. He'd fucked up, but he could fix this.

* * *

"I messed up."

"You can fix it."

"He's avoiding me."

"He'll stop eventually."

Letting out a loud groan, Matt peered up at Shiro. He had spent the past three days trying to chase Keith down, hoping to get a chance to apologize for his blunder, to explain it had just been a thoughtless joke. Except Keith had been avoiding him, and tracking down someone with stealth training when they were trying not to be found was like, next to impossible.

"Let me guess," not lifting his head from the table, Matt locked eyes with Shiro, "-patience yields focus."

He didn't miss the twinkle in Shiro's eyes when he said that. "Now you're starting to get it."

Blowing out a breath, Matt pushed himself up, resting his elbow on the table and promptly planting his chin in his hands. "Got any Keith wrangling tips?"

"Not as of late, no." Shiro told him. "You could try asking Regris."

Regris was the other Blade stationed at the Castle of Lions, he'd learned. He was in recovery, trying to learn to compensate for a missing limb. He'd been confused about that at first, before he saw the stump where what would have once been his tail ended.

Apparently Pidge was working together with Hunk to rig up some kind of a prosthetic, but they had apparently hit some kind of wall. Building a prosthetic tail was not the same as building an arm or a leg, which was why it just wasn't usually done.

He hadn't talked to the guy much, but from what he understood, he had been Keith's mentor during his time at the Blade of Marmora. They had found him first, taking care of him for months before Voltron came along, hoping to ally with them. Pidge had told him the whole story later, when things had calmed down a bit, and man- was it ever a wild ride.

Regris also seemed to have the same kind of relationship that Keith had with Shiro- only, Keith _didn't_ have that relationship with Shiro anymore. They weren't exactly strangers, but their bond didn't hold the same strength it once did. He kind of wanted to ask him about it, make sure that he was holding up okay- but like, one problem at a time.

"No way, he's gonna be on Keith's side for sure." Matt told him.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that." Shiro said, giving him a faint smile. "Give it a shot."

Frowning, Matt stared at him, trying to determine if he was pulling his leg or not- maybe he found some kind of amusement in his wild goose chase, for all he knew. Shiro's sense of humor did sometimes tend to be a little skewed.

"Fine," dropping his hands, he got out of his chair, "-guess I'll ask Regris."

"...don't you want to know where Regris _is_ , first?"

"...that might help."

* * *

Regris hand delivered Keith to him the next day.

As in, he literally brought him to the guest quarters in which he was staying, dropped him off, and then left. An incredible feat for someone who could barely balance, but he guessed that was to be expected of a member of the Blade of Marmora.

"Sorry," he blurted it out, quick as he could, just in case Keith decided to bolt, "-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say what I said. I meant it as a joke, but I didn't think it through."

For a long moment, Keith remained silent, unreadable.

"...I should be the one who's sorry."

Blinking, Matt frowned. "For what?"

"...for avoiding you."

"Pssh," brushing it off with a wave of his hand, Matt just grinned, "-it's fine. I mean, it was a pain in the ass, but it's fine."

"Regris says I was being _childish_." Keith told him, tail flicking in irritation behind him.

Running away from your problems? Like, _physically_ running away from them? Yeah, maybe just a little. However, he'd developed a rather keen set of instincts from fighting the Galra Empire for a year now, if he did say so himself, so in his great wisdom, he decided it was probably better not to say that out loud.

"So," Keith looked up at him with a slight frown, "-you're not upset that I forget you?"

"Promise." Matt told him, giving him a grin. "We only met like, once. I'd have to be a _total_ asshole to get angry with you because of that."

Slowly nodding his head, he watched as Keith visibly relaxed at his words. Huh. Maybe the reason he had gotten so upset was because that was exactly what he was afraid of- that maybe not everyone would be as understanding as the paladins had been.

Suddenly, running away from his problems didn't seem so childish. The scale of his problems was like, huge. Heck, he'd probably run away too.

"So," holding out his arm, he locked eyes with Keith, "-we friends?"

Perking up, Keith gave him a faint smile, grasping his forearm. "Yeah. Friends."

Keith still, he thought, had a firm grip.


	11. shiro side

So guess this is my last update before season seven comes out! I probably won't be working on anything new until after I watch all the episodes, which might take me awhile- I wanna make sure I'm all caught up on canon! So, until next time!

* * *

 **abyss of memory**

 **shiro side**

* * *

Sometimes it felt like between learning Zarkon was still alive, and Lotor being declared an enemy of the state, they'd had no time to rest. Even _he_ was starting to get a bit worn out. So when Voltron seemed to be moving a bit more sluggish than usual, it wasn't like he didn't understand.

"Alright team," Shiro began, keeping his voice steady- he had to set the example at times like this, "-I know we just wrapped up a big mission, but let's not lose focus just yet."

That earned him the usual assortment of groans, which he took in good humor. Aside from him, the rest of the paladins were just teenagers. They might have been fighting against the Galra Empire for awhile now, but it didn't change the fact that it hadn't been that long ago that they were all living normal lives, back on Earth.

Even if one of them didn't remember that.

Though from the sound of it, even Keith was a bit tired. Not that he could blame him- he'd _just_ gotten back from a mission with the Blade of Marmora when they had gotten the distress call. He'd asked if he wanted to let Allura fly the mission instead, but Keith had refused, saying that he'd rather do it himself.

Once it became clear to it that they had no intention of trying to replace Keith, the red lion would periodically allow Allura to fly it. Mostly it was when Keith wasn't available- it didn't happen often, but there were occasions when his work with the Blade of Marmora drew him away from the castle-ship at crucial times.

With Regris out of action for the moment, that was one less Blade Kolivan had to call on. With their number stretched thin, sometimes he had no choice but to call on Keith, even when there might be a possible conflict of interest between his paladin and Blade duties. So having someone around who could pilot the red lion in a pinch was huge help.

Keith, for his part, didn't mind either.

He knew the red lion had once been flown by Allura's father, which made him sensitive to his status as its current paladin. Though Allura had made leaps when it came to accepting the Galra as allies since they had formed an alliance with the Blade of Marmora, Shiro knew that Keith tended to worry about these things, long after they ceased to be an issue.

He'd... kind of been hoping that was something that might have changed, but it would seem that not all of the issues that had plagued him growing up had disappeared with his memory loss. Even if they were now coming from a different place than before.

Keith had abandonment issues.

 _Kethe_ had identity issues.

Both required their own set of rules, which Shiro was only just now beginning to learn. Even he hadn't instantly known which buttons he could and couldn't press around Keith when they'd first met- there were times when it hadn't been smooth sailing. It didn't come as a surprise to him that he'd have to learn them all over again.

Which he was more than willing to do. Because whatever form he took, Keith was still like a brother to him, and he meant to keep that promise of his- that he would never give up on him.

Even if he was the only one that remembered it.

"Just for a little bit longer." Shiro told them. "The Zephyrions won't be able to fix this damage all on their own, and the faster we get it repaired, the better."

"Not to mention," Allura's voice chimed in, "-that helping to repair what we damaged while trying to free their planet will go a long way to encourage them to join the Coalition."

"Next time, maybe we should try to like, not damage anything at all." Hunk said, which earned him several grunts of agreement.

"Hunk's right." Pidge said. "We need to be more careful. We should have noticed sooner that Galra cruiser was trying to draw us towards the city."

"Ugh, no offense you two, but can we asses what we did wrong like, later?" Lance whined, though he'd probably deny it. "I'm pooped. I just want to concentrate on fixing this energy generator or whatever, and then crash for like, forever."

"What," Keith let out a faint laugh, "-no parade?"

"You know, I never thought I'd say this, but let's just postpone the parade." Lance said. "Maybe if Pidge hadn't woken me up at like, seven in the morning-"

"Hey, _you're_ the one who wanted me to rig up a way to connect that stereo you bought at the space mall to the ship's central power system." Pidge cut in. "Not to mention tune the radio so that it picked up on interstellar radio transmissions, which let me tell you, was not easy."

"Yeah, but did you have to wake me up at _seven_ for it?" Lance asked.

Even without the visual, Shiro could easily picture Pidge's deadpan expression. "I stayed up all night working on it, so yes."

"Why were you even still asleep at seven anyways?" Keith asked. "Isn't that a normal time to-"

"Nope, I don't want to hear criticism of my sleeping habits from the guy who takes literal cat naps." Lance said, cutting Keith off. "Point is, I'm tired."

"Don't worry, I'll handle the diplomacy with Allura. Lance, you and Pidge can get some sleep." Shiro told him, letting out a faint chuckle. "Hunk, you feeling up to it?"

"Yeah, I guess I've got like, a few more hours in me." Hunk said. "Coran said something about a spice market, so I was hoping to get the chance to check it out. Keith, you want to come?"

There was a pause of silence at his question.

"No offense Hunk," Keith said, his own tone remarkably steady, "-but we just freed these people from the Galra. I'm not sure they're ready to have one wandering around their market."

He could almost see Hunk flinch. "Oh. Right."

It wasn't like they ever _forgot_ that Keith looked Galra now- but they had just... well, gotten used to it. This was his new normal, and over the past three months, they had all accepted that, even Allura. Most of the time, they didn't even think that much of it.

It was easy to forget that the rest of the universe wasn't necessarily going to feel the same way. It was why in the public eye, Allura was still the face of the red lion.

Sensing the awkward mood, Keith quickly made an attempt to smooth it over. "Maybe some other time?"

"Yeah, yeah," Hunk quickly agreed, "-another time sounds good. That nose of yours comes in handy."

"Right, so then it's settled." Shiro said. "Hunk, you'll come planetside with Allura and I, and we'll try to get to that spice market of yours after we wrap things up with the Zephyrions. Pidge, Lance, you two can head back to the castle-ship, get some rest. Keith, why don't you try and get some too?"

"I might just take you up on that." Keith replied, letting out a loud yawn. "You don't think you'll need me?"

"If we do, we can just ask Regris." Shiro told him. "I don't think he'll mind playing negotiator for awhile."

He didn't think they would- there were no Galran civilian outposts on this planet, no training academies of any kind. There was a single military base, but he couldn't imagine any of them choosing to surrender.

It helped to have a Galra around on such occasions. Usually that task fell on Keith, under the supervision of Allura, of course- negotiation wasn't exactly his strong suit. But since Regris had joined them, he'd taken up some of the slack.

No offense to Keith, but he was probably better at it.

Granted, not all of it was Keith's fault.

His age was apparently hard for other Galra to gauge- based on his height, he was usually pegged for being a lot younger than he actually was. Granted, for a race that lived as long as the Galra, eighteen was still incredibly young, but it was still squarely within the realm of adolescence, rather than outright childhood.

...he tried not to think too much about the Galra lifespan.

Someday, he'd probably have to- they'd probably _all_ have to- but until that time came, that, at least, they could put off.

There was also the question of whether Keith would keep growing, or if he had reached his maximum height. He tried to picture Keith being as tall as Kolivan, and failed- that would be something that would take some getting used to.

There were actually still a lot of questions left unanswered about Keith, but short of knocking on Haggar's door and asking her, they had no way of getting them. All the transmissions that Ulaz had intercepted from the prison ship Keith had been kept on had been destroyed when he'd sacrificed himself, so all they had was the small amount he'd managed to decode beforehand.

Which basically just told them what the already knew- where and when Keith had been captured.

In terms of examinations, he'd been checked over three different times. Once, when the Blade of Marmora had taken him in, and then again when Allura had begrudgingly accepted him back into the fold, which had been done by Coran. As for the third, it had been performed by the Olkari, upon Keith's request.

Apparently he wanted to make _absolutely certain_ that Haggar didn't have any way of controlling him. For which he couldn't blame him- heck, he'd had himself checked out after that, given that in the year he'd been a prisoner of the Empire, he'd gotten her personal attention.

Ryner agreed to keep quiet about it, and outside of the Castle of Lions, she was one of the few who knew about Keith's condition. When they had freed Olkarion, Allura was still serving as the red paladin in his place, so while she'd been surprised by the development, she had barely so much as batted an eye at their story.

Even within the Blade of Marmora, Keith's status at the red paladin was kept a secret. That had been Kolivan's idea- outside of Antok and Thace, both of who were gone now, Regris was the only one who knew. As far as the rest of the Blade knew, the only reason Keith was on the Castle of Lions was to serve as their direct liaison.

He wished they could be more public about it.

But so long as Keith himself didn't want it, he wasn't about to go behind his back and reveal the truth.

But he also knew that even with Allura serving as the red lion's public face, they couldn't keep this up forever. Something would have to change eventually, and he'd just rather they have a choice in both the _when_ and the _how_.

He could understand why people might be apprehensive about the idea of a Galra paladin given how it had turned out the last time. But Keith was no Zarkon- he wasn't anywhere close to being like him. Maybe he wasn't always the best at expressing it, but he had always been someone who cared deeply about people.

It'd take a lot more than memory loss to change that.

He'd seen that much from the way he'd tried to take care of them when they'd all caught his cold, and in the way he did his best to help Regris adjust to losing his tail. The way he hadn't even paid attention to his own injuries when he had dragged Regris out of the red lion, hovering by Coran's side during the entire time it took to get him processed and into a healing pod.

He was awkward as ever about it, but it showed.

He just wished other people could see that, like he could.

"Alright team," Shiro began, pulling himself out of his own thoughts, "-let's wrap this up."

* * *

It wasn't often that Keith came back as injured as he did during that one mission with Regris, but it did happen. Today wasn't as bad as it had been then- he wouldn't need the healing pod, at the very least. Just a bit of good old fashioned first aid, as Coran had put it.

Didn't mean he couldn't fuss over him.

Sucking in his teeth, Keith clearly fought the urge to swat his hand away. Guess no matter what the species, no one liked having their injuries disinfected.

"I'll be done in a second." Shiro told him. "Just sit still. This isn't easy with all your fur in the way."

Tail twitching, Keith's lips curled into a tight frown. "Sorry for having fur."

Honestly, if it wasn't for the fur, he might actually forget that the disgruntled teen before him had changed at all. He'd heard from Lance that Keith had fussed about it when he'd tried to wipe down his sweat back when he was sick, so he guessed while he'd become easier to take care of, he could still be stubborn about it in places.

Granted, that was one change Shiro didn't mind so much.

Letting out a faint hiss as Shiro pressed the alcohol soaked cloth up against the cut on his face, Keith bit down on his lip. Thankfully, that was the last of them- he'd miscalculated his escape, and had apparently gotten cut up by some shrapnel. Nothing serious, but better not to ignore it, either.

"Coran gave me some salve that should speed up your healing." Shiro told him. "Now it doesn't smell great, but-"

He didn't even have to open the jar to cause Keith to crinkle his nose. Right. If it smelled bad to him, he could only imagine how much worse it smelled to Keith.

"-I take it that's a no."

"That's a no." Keith confirmed, pushing the jar away with his hand.

Letting out a faint chuckle, Shiro put the jar back away. "Just make sure to keep them clean. We can't exactly stick a plaster on over fur."

At least Keith's coat was short- he'd seen some Galra with pretty thick coats of fur. And if he'd learned one thing from Keith being Galra, it was that they shed.

 _A lot._

"I can take care of myself, Shiro." Keith told him. "...but thanks."

Getting to his feet, Shiro gave him a smile. "No thanks necessary. Just try to be a little more careful next time."

He knew that risks were part of the job- but it didn't mean he had to like it. Not when he'd seen Blades die, sacrifice themselves for the cause. While the same could be said of being a paladin, there was no doubt that the work the Blades did was usually the more dangerous.

They didn't have the luxury of doing it from one of the most powerful weapons in the universe.

"I'm always careful." Keith told him, jumping down from the examination table.

Merely arching a brow, Shiro let out a faint chuckle. "Pretty sure I've heard you say that before."

Frowning, Keith narrowed his eyes. "I thought we agreed not to hold me accountable to anything past me might have said."

Holding up his hands, Shiro gave him a faint grin. "Fair enough."

Keith still wasn't entirely comfortable with the subject of his past, not just yet- but he was a bit more at ease with it than before. While he was still afraid to take that plunge into anything too deep, he would skim the surface at times, periodically chancing questions that didn't seem as if they would be too revealing.

Finding out where the boundary lay was... tricky, to say the least. Lance had crossed it the other day, when Keith had finally asked about the Galaxy Garrison. Apparently while he was ready to hear about it from a general perspective, he wasn't nearly ready to be regaled with stories that featured him as a main character.

(Or an _antagonist_ , at least from Lance's point of view.)

Keith had snapped at Lance before storming out- but they'd made up since then.

It was a delicate balance, he'd admit. Even he had times when he thought he'd said too much. He'd never pushed Keith's limit- not yet, though if he was going to be honest, he had to admit that he was a bit worried that maybe _Keith_ wasn't being completely honest with him.

He didn't know where he'd heard it from, but it was obvious that he'd heard what kind of relationship the two of them used to have from somewhere. Keith never actually _said_ anything about it, but it wasn't that hard to pick up on- it was in the way he'd sometimes look away from him, or in the way he'd catch just a hint of guilt in his eyes.

Made sense. He was the only person here that Keith had actually been close to.

Part of him couldn't help but worry that Keith was giving him more leeway than he was actually entirely comfortable with, all because he thought he had to. He didn't- Keith didn't owe him the kind of relationship that they had before, not when it had taken so much time to build up in the first place.

 _If_ they ever grew that close again, he wanted it to happen organically.

No matter how much he missed it.

Guess Keith had become just as important to him as he'd been to Keith. Funny- he hadn't even noticed it before.

Guess what they said was true- sometimes you really didn't realize what you had, until it was gone. He thought he'd understood that after Adam left, but he guessed there were some lessons you just had to learn more than once.

...god, Adam. How would he explain any of this to him?

Provided they ever got back to Earth, that was.

"Shiro?"

Snapping out of his thoughts, he realized that Keith was peering up at him, head slightly tilted. Maybe Lance was onto something after all with the whole _purple space cat_ thing, since there was just something about his posture that brought one to mind.

"You spaced out." Keith told him. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just a lot on my mind these days." Shiro told him. "Between Zarkon and Lotor, there's a lot to think about lately."

It wasn't entirely the truth, but it wasn't a lie either. He had been thinking a lot about the two of them- namely, how he could take advantage of Zarkon's near obsessive manhunt for his son to strike a blow against the empire.

Nodding his head, Keith seemed to accept that. "Kolivan says that Zarkon has gone as far as to abandon the royal flagship to hunt for Lotor."

"Guess Lotor trying to make his own trans-reality ships really ticked him off." Shiro observed. "But it doesn't really surprise me. Our plan wouldn't have worked nearly as well as it had if he didn't have such a singular focus on the black lion."

"Still not well enough." Keith frowned.

Ah, yeah, that was true. But considering the circumstances, he'd say they had done pretty well- it had only been the second time they had formed Voltron since Keith had returned to them, and only the first time they had done it since recognizing him _as_ Keith.

The void that was his mindscape hadn't been any better, but as long as they didn't come too close to it, it couldn't hurt them. Not that he thought Keith would let it- if anything, he seemed especially conscious of it. When they were connected by the paladin bond, he could see into their heads just as easily as they could see into his- and while he tried not to touch them too deeply, he'd felt him prod at their minds from his end of the bond every once in awhile.

It probably made him all too aware just how different he was from them.

Which wasn't to say the void hadn't been shrinking lately- it had. Keith had nearly a year's worth of memories to him now, and while it would never make up for the eighteen he'd lost, it was at least _something_. More than had been there before, at any rate.

"At least this proves that he hasn't learned from his mistakes." Shiro pointed out. "Both Voltron and the Coalition are growing stronger everyday. It won't be long now before we're ready for another large scale assault."

"But," Shiro added, "-speaking of getting stronger, training deck's off limits for today."

Hm. Watching Keith's fur bristle, his tail stand on end, Shiro could only think one thing- yeah, Lance was pretty spot on with that space cat thing after all.

...he'd keep that to himself.

* * *

Out of all the places he expected to find Allura, sitting on the floor, surrounded by dusty old books was not one of them. She must have been there for quite some time, too- if how bored the space mice looked was anything to go off of.

Without the four of them, he doubted she would have even noticed him.

It was Platt who scrambled up her shoulder, squeaking something into her ear. Looking up with a start, Allura looked properly sheepish, as if she hadn't realized the degree to which she was engrossed by her research.

"Shiro," giving him an apologetic smile, she brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "-is there something you need?"

It was rare to see the princess look disheveled- and he wouldn't say right now totally qualified, but it was about as close as he'd seen her come to it. She must have noticed, because he caught her trying to smooth out the wrinkles in her gown, trying to once again make herself look presentable.

"Just thought I should let you know that our mission went safely." Shiro told her.

"Your- oh! Yes, of course. That is very good to hear." Allura told him.

Arching a brow, Shiro couldn't help but be a bit amused. "You forgot, didn't you?"

"...I have been a bit distracted, I will admit." Allura confessed. "I take it then that there were no problems in escorting the refugees?"

"The Olkari are getting them sorted as we speak." Shiro told her. "So what have you been working on, that's got you so distracted?"

Frowning, Allura looked as if she was contemplating her answer. "I discovered these books when I was going through father's room the other day," Allura began- and he did not miss the way her face fell as she spoke of the man, nor could he blame her, "-and I thought I would try to sort through them. They are all pertaining to Altean alchemy, so I thought perhaps they might be able to give me some kind of clue."

It wasn't hard for him to guess what she meant.

"You mean about Keith."

"Yes," Allura said, "-that was my hope."

Taking a seat in front of her, Shiro peered down at the books. He didn't understand a single word, but then again, he couldn't read Altean. Pidge had been trying to learn, but she hadn't been making much headway.

"So," he began, "-you find anything?"

"No, I am afraid not." Allura said, shaking her head, before pausing. "Nothing that would help, at the very least."

Lifting his brows, Shiro looked up at her. "So you did find _something_."

"Well... not so much _found_ something, as confirmed what I already thought." Allura told him. "There is a passing mention, here," fingers tracing the passage to which she referred to, she let her eyes trace it just the same, "-about some kind of ritual involving memory. But I am afraid I have not been able to find any kind of detail regarding it, and I am not sure it would help, even if I did."

"It is possible, however," Allura told him, sparing him a slight look, "-that the witch might have done something similar, in order to rob Keith of his memories."

"So you think she might have done this... memory ritual?" Shiro asked.

"I cannot be certain." Allura told him. "Haggar _must_ be Honerva, the alchemist that my father assigned to study the rift. So while it is possible that she could know it, I cannot say for certain that if she would be able to _recall_ it, not with the way her mind has been poisoned by quintessence."

Nodding his head, Shiro recalled the story that they had all been told- about how Voltron had come to be, and about how Zarkon had turned to evil. Out of all the possible reasons he could have imagined as being the tipping point, _love_ was not one of them.

Guess it wasn't always a pure force for good.

"So what does it involve, exactly?" Shiro asked.

Pursing her lips in thought, Allura's gaze drifted back to the text. "As I said before, it is a passing mention at most. And the scale of it is..."

Shaking her head, she stopped herself from getting off topic. "What the text describes is a ritual in which a memory is taken from a living being, and transferred into some kind of an object. According to this, it is meant as a means of dealing with traumatic memories- sealing them, I suppose you could say, until one is ready to face them."

"But from the sound of it, it is only meant for a short span of memory." Allura told him. "Only so much as the vessel can contain. So to steal an entire lifespan's worth of memories..."

"You'd need a large vessel." Shiro finished.

"Yes, exactly." Allura told him. "But if this is true, and Haggar _did_ use a method similar to this, it would mean that Keith's memories are not gone. They are simply somewhere else."

Brows furrowing, Shiro considered the prospect. On one hand, it meant that there was a chance that Keith could get his memories back after all. But on the other hand...

"Would that even be safe?" Shiro asked. "I mean- putting eighteen years worth of memories back into Keith's head."

"I sincerely doubt it, at least, not all at once. Gradually, maybe." Allura told him. "And even if we _found_ the vessel, I do not have the knowledge to put them back. At best, I might accidentally destroy the vessel, and the memories with it, but at worst, we would risk them becoming scattered."

"Scattered." Shiro repeated. "That doesn't sound good."

"Not if you want to grapple with having someone else's memories in your head, no it does not." Allura told him. "I can only imagine the effect would be... disconcerting."

To say the least. Having one person on the Castle of Lions with identity issues was enough, he didn't need a whole crew of them. Besides, he was pretty sure Keith wouldn't be too happy about other people having his memories.

"Right," Shiro said, "-I see what you mean by it not being that helpful."

Nodding her head, Allura let out a sigh. "I have been pouring over these texts in hope of finding something else of use, but thus far, I am afraid that is all I have found."

"Well, it's something." Shiro told her. "Gives us a start, at least."

 _If_ Haggar had used this method, that was.

 _If_ she hadn't already destroyed the vessel.

"I suspect perhaps Haggar meant to sort through them, so that she could reconstruct Keith's memory for her own purposes." Allura told him. "It is fortunate for us that Ulaz rescued him when he did. If she were to had succeeded, he might very well be our enemy by now."

Not a prospect he relished.

He didn't know if that was something they would even be able to get Keith _back_ from. Losing memories was one thing, but having them manipulated to the point where you believed you were someone else?

There wasn't a single part of that, that _didn't_ sound horrifying.

And having to fight against Keith? He didn't even want to think about it.

"Guess we owe Ulaz a massive debt, then."

"Yes," Allura said, "-I suppose we do."

* * *

"Alright team, we've got about twenty minutes before the Galra notice we're here. Keith, how are things looking out there?"

"You're still in the clear." Keith informed him. "Let me know if you need an extraction."

"Copy that." Shiro told him. "Hopefully it won't come to that, but good to have the offer on the table. Everyone else in position?"

"Roger that." Lance's voice piped up. "Ready to receive prisoners."

"Ready to disable security protocols." Pidge replied.

"Just ready." Hunk said. "You know, in general. But since I'm standing right next to you, you probably know that already."

Letting out a faint laugh, Shiro's gaze flickered down towards Hunk, who just gave him a shrug of his shoulders. "Fair enough. Okay team, let's free those prisoners."

Olia had made them aware of a prison satellite off the far moon of a remote Galra outpost. She had intelligence that it contained a few captured rebel fighters, and had expressed an interest in seeing their safe return- but just like the Blade of Marmora, the resistance was spread thin at the moment.

Once they could solidify their foothold, they would all be able to breathe easy, but for the moment, everything was kind of touch and go. They needed to do as much as possible while Zarkon's direct attention wasn't on them- this was a chance none of them could pass up. They'd free these prisoners today, and come back later to attack the Galra outpost itself.

While he and Hunk freed the prisoners, Pidge was to disable the satellite's security. Lance was waiting in one of the shipment hangars to take them all out of here, while Keith hung back, out of sight in the red lion, monitoring the situation from outside. He didn't think he'd be thrilled to go back into a prison after everything he'd gone through, even if he couldn't remember most of it.

His body did.

And trust him- he understood that. Even _he_ got goosebumps from being here, but he could handle it. They had a job to do, and these prisoners had waited long enough.

Thus far, the mission was going without a hitch. Using Pidge's guidance, they were able to locate the exact sector of the satellite in which the prisoners were being held. The prison was almost entirely automated- so long as they stayed clear of the few scant foot soldiers there were, with Pidge in control of the systems, they didn't need to be worry about being picked up by the sentries.

"Okay, it looks like there's three separate cell blocks, all within close proximity." Pidge told them. "I'm sending you the access codes now. Good news is, we should be able to fit everyone into the blue lion's cargo hold."

"Right, thanks Pidge." Shiro told her. "Okay Hunk, let's get these guys out of here."

"Copy that." Hunk told him.

The access codes Pidge sent did the trick, and it wasn't long until every last prisoner was free. Some of them looked a little worse for wear, but it didn't look like anyone would need urgent medical care- a day or two in the cryo-replenishers, maybe.

"Alright Pidge, that's the last of them." Shiro told her. "We should be able to-"

"Paladin, wait."

"Actually, hold that thought, Pidge." Shiro said, before turning towards the alien who had spoken to him. It wasn't of a race he recognized, but even after being in space this long, there were still plenty of parts that he hadn't had the chance to explore just yet.

"There is another." The alien told him. "Of your kind."

The words were enough to give him pause. Of his kind? Another human?

"Shiro-"

He didn't even need to let Pidge finish to know what she was thinking. Although they'd found her brother, they still hadn't turned up any trace of her father.

But why would he be kept separate from the rest of the prisoners?

"I- where is this?" Shiro asked.

Motioning with its hand, the alien pointed in the opposite direction. "On the opposite side of the satellite, far away from the main cell block. I've only ever seen him once, but he should still be there."

"Right, okay- just hold on a second." Shiro told him, holding up a hand. "Pidge? You getting anything?"

"There _does_ seem to be some kind of restricted access zone in that area. It could be another cell." Pidge told him. "Shiro, do you think its my-?"

"I don't know." Shiro told her. The last thing he wanted was to get her hopes up, even if Sam was just about the only other human that had any reason to be this far in space, now that Keith and Matt had both been accounted for. "This prisoner- is it an older man?"

The alien merely shook its head. "No. Young."

Something in Shiro froze at his words.

Young? Was there another human this far out in space? As far as he knew, the Kerberos mission was the only one of its kind, so unless the Galaxy Garrison had sent someone up since then...

"Alright, I'll take care of it." Shiro told him. "Hunk, you escort the prisoners back to the blue lion. I'll see about our mystery prisoner."

Looking up at him, Hunk frowned. "Who do you think it is?"

"I don't know." Shiro admitted. "Guess we'll find out."

"I'm sending you a map now." Pidge told him- and he couldn't help but note the stark disappointment in her tone. "But I can't find _anything_ about an extra prisoner anywhere in the satellite's systems. This seems weird, Shiro."

"Yeah, what if it's a trap?" Lance asked.

"Then I'll be careful." Shiro told him. "Besides, I don't think the Galra would have let us get this far if they knew we were coming. Some of these prisoners are high ranking resistance leaders, I can't imagine they'd be too happy to see them escape."

"Looks like you'll need to hook me into the system when you get there." Pidge informed him. "I can't get into that zone from here. It's set up just like the prison we freed Slav from."

"Roger that." Shiro told her. "Go ahead and make your way back to the blue lion, Pidge. Keith, how's our time?"

For a second, there was nothing but silence on his end of line- just when he was about to do a com check, Keith's voice crackled across them. "You've got maybe six minutes, Shiro."

"Right, guess I'll just have to do this fast." Shiro said.

"I'll contact Allura, tell her to have a wormhole ready just in case." Keith told him.

"Good thinking." Shiro said. "Thanks, Keith."

Keith gave him a noncommittal noise in response- he seemed a bit distracted, he couldn't help but note.

He made good time in getting to the restricted access zone- Pidge had sent him the fastest route. Peering down the hallway, he frowned. There was a single sentry posted outside of the door at the end of it- so there _was_ another prisoner here.

Listening to the hum of his artificial hand as it flickered to life, he barreled down the corridor, taking out the sentry before it had a chance to retaliate- or worse, call for backup. He winced a little as it clattered to the floor, but he didn't have time to worry if that had attracted anyone's attention or not.

"Alright Pidge," Shiro said, "-I'm here. Hooking you up now."

"Got it." Pidge replied. "Let me just generate you an access code and- okay, we should be in."

As if on cue, the indicator light above the door panel flickered green. Powering down his hand, he let it hover over the panel for the span of a second, something causing him to hesitate. It was like there was something that held him back, something that told him that maybe he _shouldn't_ open this door.

He pressed his hand against the panel.

At first, he didn't see anyone, much less any prisoner. He was nearly about to declare that the cell was empty, before he noticed something dark stirring in the far corner of the room.

Shiro felt his breath hitch in his throat.

The first thing that caught his eye was the mess of dark hair, dirty and matted. It stood as a stark contrast to the pale skin of the cell's occupant, nearly translucent, like its owner hadn't seen the sun for a long time. They were nearly skin and bones, eyes sunken into hollow pits, making it hard to discern their color.

It didn't matter. He already knew what color they were.

They looked at him like he was a mirage.

"...shiro?"

He couldn't stop himself. The name was on his lips before he could register that his mouth was moving.

"... _keith_?"


	12. hunk side

And we're back! What, did you think I would really leave you hanging for that long? After that cliffhanger? I'm not that cruel, I promise! That said, we're easing into this half of the story, before we get into the real meat of the plot. I'm not totally sure how many parts telling this will take, but maybe three or four- we'll just have to see how things turn out!

* * *

 **abyss of memory**

 **hunk side**

* * *

Okay, so today had officially taken a weird turn.

That was the only explanation for Shiro returning to the blue lion- with sentries in hot pursuit, he might add- with what looked to be _Keith_ on his back.

A very _human_ Keith.

Like okay, he could have sworn he'd heard him say Keith's name over the coms, but like- he'd thought he'd just been talking to him or something. Not- not whatever this was.

"Lance!" Shiro shouted, leaving no time for questions. "Get going!"

Lance, who by the way was _blissfully_ oblivious up in the blue lion's cockpit, wasted no time in booking it from the prison satellite. Not fast enough- Shiro's little side trip had cost them all the extra time they had. Which meant the network of sentry ships that they had disabled were now back online.

Every last one of them.

Even in the blue lion's hull, he could tell how bad this situation was.

At this rate, Allura wouldn't even be able to open a wormhole. Not without risking a ton of Galra fighters coming through with them, exposing their location to the Galra Empire.

"Oh man, this is _not_ good." Hunk said- and hey, maybe he was stating the obvious, but you know, sometimes the obvious needed stating. "Shiro, what do we-?"

He didn't even get to finish that sentence, the entire lion rocking violently under their feet. He had to scramble to catch Pidge, bracing himself against the wall to stay on his feet. Had they- had they just been hit by something?

"Whoa," Lance's voice came over the coms, "-guys, did you just see that?"

"Lance, we're in the blue lion's hull!" Pidge shouted. "We kind of can't see _anything_!"

"Oh. Right." He could almost hear Lance's frown. "Well, looks like we don't have to worry about that pursuit after all. Keith just sank the whole satellite. That railgun pack a serious punch!"

Well, that was _one_ way to the get the sentries off their backs, but also...

Keith.

Unable to help himself, Hunk felt himself stiffen, looking back towards the person Shiro now had cradled securely in his arms, braced against him so that he didn't pitch with the ship. He... didn't look like he was doing too hot- heck, he was pretty sure he wasn't even like, _conscious_.

And listen- maybe it was kind of hard to see under the mess of dark hair, but that was like, one hundred percent Keith. But if _that_ was Keith, then who the heck was flying the red lion?

Keith. It had to be Keith.

But if that was true, then who the heck did Shiro have cradled in his arms?

Oh man. This was so not what he had signed up for today.

"Guess I can tell Allura we don't need that wormhole." Lance observed.

"No, we're still going to need that." Shiro spoke up. "We're also going to need a healing pod, prepped and ready to go."

"You didn't-"

"No, I'm fine." Shiro told him. "But they aren't."

They. Not Keith. _They_.

"Roger that." Lance said, catching his meaning. "Keith, do you copy? We're gonna need that wormhole after all, buddy."

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Pidge tensing- oh good, so he wasn't alone. He wasn't sure if anyone else had noticed, but Keith- _Kethe_? He was just going to go with Kethe right now. Less confusing.

Ever since that alien mentioned something about there being an extra prisoner, he'd been acting kind of strange. He could tell that much even over the coms. Which yeah, he could kind of understand- he'd been confused by the whole _there's another human this far out in space that wasn't Pidge's dad_ thing too. But from the sound of it...

...it was like he _knew_.

Or at least suspected.

Dreaded?

Oh yeah, that was the one. Yep, that had to be it. Kethe had been dreading this.

"I copy." Keith's voice was tense. "I'll let Allura know."

"Keith," Shiro's tone was as neutral as could be, not giving anything away, "-you'd better come through it with us."

There was a long pause, before, "-sir."

Curt, business-like. Frowning, Hunk glanced over towards Shiro. He didn't _look_ angry, and he didn't _sound_ angry. He just- he looked kind of _distant_ , if anything. Like his mind wasn't all there.

"Shiro?"

Looking up at him, Shiro frowned. "Allura and I will explain everything, as soon as we get him into a healing pod."

And from the sound of it, that was all they were going to get. Exchanging a glance with Pidge, she frowned, shaking her head. It wasn't just Shiro, he noticed- no, she looked a little distracted too.

No, distracted didn't sound right.

Antsy? Worried?

Yep, that was it. She was worried.

Not that he could blame her. Because sure, maybe he looked like a pale shadow of himself, all skin and bones where he had once been lean muscle and like, a metric ton of attitude, but that was _definitely_ Keith.

Except... was it?

Sure, malnourishment was clearly at play here, and that explained a lot. He hated that it did, but well... it did. What it _didn't_ explain were his fingers, that just seemed a little too long and gangly, or the way his hair seemed to tint purple in the light. And sure, both of those things were like, minor, compared to how different Kethe looked, but things like that didn't just _change_.

Kethe had changed. Like, a lot- but he'd been _made_ to change.

Besides, he was his friend. His kitchen buddy!

Having Kethe around made meal prep go so much faster. At least, once they had worked out the whole _fur_ situation. Maybe his actual cooking skills needed some work, which hey, he wasn't about to fault him for, but his knife skills? Amazing.

And like, he listened to him. Every word.

And that... that meant something to him. Even Lance, who was like, his best bud for life, no doubt about that, would _sometimes_ tune him out when he got a little on the rambly side, which hey, he wasn't going to blame him for, he got it. But Kethe?

Every. Word.

So whatever was going on here, whoever _this_ was- it wouldn't change a damn thing.

Except... that sounded kind of mean. Look- maybe he had some doubts about this human Keith, but like... if he was part of some evil plot, would he really be in such bad condition? He could see the outline of his ribs, that's how bad he was.

None of the other prisoners were anywhere _near_ being in as bad a shape as him. It looked like he hadn't gotten a solid meal for _months_ , much less anything that amounted to proper sleep. It was like... it was like he had just been thrown away.

Scrap.

Like he was _scrap_.

And sure, maybe that was like, meant to make them sympathetic to him, but like- even if that were the case, how would the Galra even _know_ they would be coming? Sure, they'd raided a few prisons, but like- how would they even know they would be coming to this exact one?

Heck, they hadn't even known about it until Olia had told them. So unless she'd been fed information by the Empire, which he doubted...

...then yeah. Not some kind of evil plot.

And no, Kethe wasn't part of some kind of evil plot either. They had formed _Voltron_ together. The red lion had flown halfway across the galaxy, just to save him! He didn't think it would do that for anyone that wasn't the real Keith.

He knew that. They _all_ knew that.

...actually, did _Kethe_ know that?

Okay. Yeah. Now he got it. That was what Pidge was worried about. Had to be.

"This is your handsome pilot speaking," Lance's voice piped up, and man, did he ever envy how oblivious he was to what was going on back here, "-we've docked with the Castle of Lions. All passengers, prepare to disembark."

Brows furrowing, Hunk turned to Shiro, about to open his mouth-

"-go on."

Blinking, he quickly shut it. Uh, since when could Shiro read minds? Or had he like, just been that obvious?

Giving him a strained smile, Shiro looked understanding. "Somehow I don't think Keith's going to come out of the red lion on his own. Think you're up to the task?"

"I- uh," frowning, Hunk chewed on his lip, "-I guess?"

"Good," Shiro nodded, "-because you're probably closer to him than any of us."

Eyes widening in surprise, he opened up his mouth to protest. Him? No way that was true. No, the one Keith was closest to was-

...oh.

It _was_ him.

Breakfast, lunch, dinner... whenever it was mealtime, Keith was in the kitchen, right there with him. Helping him. The few times he wasn't, it was because he was away on a mission, or had dozed off on the training deck. He'd just... he'd never thought much of it, just accepting it as something that was, but... huh.

"And Hunk," Shiro's voice caught his attention, "-make sure to tell him that he's a part of this family."

"Yeah," giving him a faint smile, Hunk nodded his head, "-I will."

* * *

Right.

So that was going to be a problem.

Well, at least he knew Keith was definitely _in_ there. Red wouldn't have her particle barrier raised otherwise. Frowning, Hunk folded his arms in front of him, feeling his brow furrow. Maybe Yellow could convince Red to-?

-or maybe he wouldn't need to.

Maybe Red would just let down the particle barrier on her own.

Hesitating for only a second, Hunk decided it was probably best not to look a gift horse ( _lion?_ ) in the mouth. Heading into the red lion, he made a beeline for the cockpit, where, yeah. There was Keith, right where he thought he'd be.

And okay, maybe he didn't understand a whole lot of Galran, but he was pretty sure that some of those were _not_ words he should repeat in mixed company.

Noticing that Hunk was in the cockpit with him, Keith stiffened. Even his tail, which had been thrashing wildly just a second before, went stiff. It kind of reminded him of that time he'd caught the neighborhood stray in their kitchen, seconds before he bolted with one of their fish.

Except unlike that time, he was cutting off Keith's only escape route.

Right.

Moving away from the entrance to the cockpit, he watched as Keith's tail went slack. He watched him with... what was that, apprehension? _Fear_?

It was both.

Oh man.

Right, okay uh- racking his brain for what to do, he reached up, taking off his helmet. Tucking it under one arm, he gave Keith a smile, one that he hoped would put him at ease.

It didn't.

He was a big guy, sure. But Keith had spent like, five months being trained by like, the most elite group of spies he knew of, and he was a top notch fighter even _before_ that. Which, granted, the Blade of Marmora was like, the _only_ elite group of spies that he knew of, but hey- who was counting?

Anyways, point was, Keith could take him.

"Hey."

For a long moment, all Keith did was stare at him, before finally, "-hey."

"So uh, this is like, my first time in the red lion." Hunk told him, racking his brain for something to say and failing. Miserably. "It's nice."

Heaving a sigh, Keith just slumped in his chair. "Hunk, why don't you save us both the trouble, and just cut to the chase? I heard what Shiro said over the coms. So if you came here to kick me out, just get it over with already."

Oh. Right.

Yeah, he should have figured that if he'd heard Shiro say that, so had Keith.

"Keith, I'm not here to kick you out." Hunk told him.

"So then what it is?" Keith asked, trying and failing to keep his voice level. "Am I being tossed in the brig? Shot into space?"

"No!" Hunk exclaimed. "No, of course not! Keith, why would we even do that?"

"It's okay, Hunk. You can stop calling me that already." Keith said, still not daring to actually look at him. "You don't have to keep pretending. You found the real Keith, so I can just go."

Oh no, it was worse than he thought.

"Keith-"

And that was the wrong thing to say.

Springing to his feet, Keith glowered at him, more out of fear than out of fury. "Tell me I'm wrong, Hunk. Tell me that Shiro didn't find what I think he found."

"I-" Opening his mouth to protest, Hunk heaved a sigh, knowing that he couldn't. He didn't know how Keith knew, but he did. Maybe... maybe he'd been afraid of something like this all along.

...he should have realized it. Why hadn't he? Shiro was right, he spent more time with Keith than any of them. Maybe that had changed a little since Regris had shown up, but out of the paladins... yeah, it was him.

God, he wished Regris were actually _here_ right now. Of all the times for him to return to the Blade, it _had_ to be today. They couldn't have just put this whole rescue op off for like, one more day, could they? If they had, Regris would be here, and-

...and he didn't actually know if the other Keith would be. It looked that bad.

Watching that faint bit of hope leave Keith's eyes hurt worse than anything. "So it's true. I'm-"

 _-a fake._

"Keith, nobody is-"

"Was he human?" Keith cut him off.

"Uh-"

"Hunk," taking a step forward, Keith's eyes, glowing in the dim light of the cockpit, locked with his, "-was. he. human."

Shoulders slumping, all he could was nod.

Tail drooping, Keith closed his eyes. "Right. Okay. I get it."

Turning sharply on his heel, Keith made for the exit. Maybe he wasn't exactly known for being fast, but upon seeing that, Hunk sprang into action, ignoring the clatter of his helmet as it fell to the ground, forgotten.

"Hey whoa," holding him in place with one arm, he ignored his sputter of protest, "-Keith, where are you going?"

"Where does it look like I'm going?" Keith hissed. "I'm _leaving_."

And just like that, the doors to Red's cockpit slammed shut, effectively trapping them both inside. It took Keith by surprise as much- if not more- than it did him.

"Right," letting go of Keith, Hunk frowned, "-guessing that's the red lion's way of saying no."

Letting out a growl of frustration, Keith stormed over to the pilot's seat, leaping on top of it. Pressing his hands against the access panel in the red lion's head, he grunted, trying to force it open to no avail- it wasn't budging.

He let out a sizable string of Galran swears, topping it off with a hearty, "- _fuck_."

Defeated, Keith slumped into the pilot's seat, tail hanging over the edge, the tip of it twitching in irritation. Folding his arms in front of him, he fixed his gaze forward, glowering out into the hangar like it had done something to offend him.

Not knowing what else to do, Hunk made his way by his side. Keith tensed as he did so, but seemed to relax once he leaned against the red lion's console, giving him a bit of space.

"I don't get it." Keith stated, face scrunching up. "I _have_ to be the fake."

"Do you- do you _want_ to be the fake?" Hunk asked.

Okay, he'd take back what he said earlier. Watching Keith deflate at his question was what hurt worse than anything, anger gone out of him like it was a candle, and someone had blown it out. He drew in on himself, gaze fixed on the cockpit floor. "I _should_ be the fake."

Frowning, Hunk didn't exactly like this method, but he wasn't going to get anywhere if Keith wasn't willing to admit the source of the problem. "Do you _want_ to be the fake?"

For a long moment, there was nothing but silence, Keith's eyes welded shut. Trying not to look at him. Trying not to look at anything.

"...no."

His voice was so quiet, he nearly missed it.

"I- I want to stay."

Opening his eyes, Keith looked up at him. He didn't even need to know how to read Galra eyes to see the pain in them- it was that vivid.

And that was his limit.

Nope. Couldn't take this anymore. Now was hug time.

At first, Keith was stiff in his embrace. Frozen.

"You know what Shiro _did_ tell me?" He asked, feeling Keith flinch in his arms. "He told me that you were part of this family. Told me to tell _you_ that."

"But I might not even be-"

"Doesn't matter." Hunk told him. "I mean, you're right, we'd obviously have to stop calling you Keith, but hey, Kethe's a cool name too."

Guess that was the right thing to say.

Swallowing, Keith grew lax in his arms- before slowly, with much hesitation, returning the hug. Keith buried his head in his shoulder, hair tickling his chin.

It was the sound of the red lion opening the cockpit that pulled them apart. Keith didn't exactly look like all of his problems had been solved, which yeah, of course he didn't. But he looked better than he had when he'd found him in the cockpit, which was basically all that mattered.

"So uh," Hunk began, "-Shiro's probably gathered everyone in the med bay. Do you-?"

"I," gaze falling, Keith pursed his lips, "-I don't think I'm ready to just yet."

"That's cool." Hunk told him. "I'll stay."

Frowning, Keith's brow knit together. "Hunk, you don't have to-"

"Nope." Holding up his hands, Hunk shook his head. "Can't change my mind. I'm staying."

Keith merely stared at him for a long moment, before cracking a smile. "I- thanks, Hunk."

"Hey, that's what friends are for." Hunk told him. "And you and me- we're friends."

"Even if I might be a clone?"

"Even if you're a clone." Hunk told him. "I mean, just for the record, I don't think you are, but hey- even if you were, that's cool."

"Yeah, well that makes one of us." Keith told him. "But thanks, I think."

Nodding his head, they fell into silence for a moment- before Hunk felt himself growing a bit antsy. "So," he began, "-I ever tell you about my one disastrous year as a boy scout?"

Tilting his head, Keith frowned. "What's a boy scout?"

"I'll take that as a no."


	13. x side

Hey all, back with the next installment! I'm really excited to finally get to this section of the story, so I hope everyone's just as excited as I am to read it! I still do think this section will be told in four parts, so here's two out of four!

* * *

 **abyss of memory**

 **x side**

* * *

When Shiro came down the blue lion's ramp, she felt herself pale.

All she had heard from Keith was that one of the prisoners they had rescued was in critical condition, and would need a healing pod as quickly as possible. Thinking back on it, his tone had been... _strained_ , to say the least.

Now she knew why.

For the unconscious figure Shiro had on his back was none other than Keith. Or at the very least, someone who looked rather like him.

Impossible. The lions could fly themselves, under certain circumstances, but it had been Keith who had requested the wormhole, so he had to have actually _been_ in the red lion. Not to mention, there was no explanation for how he would have suddenly returned to being human- and even less as to why he would so suddenly be in such poor condition.

Unless...

She felt her blood boil at the mere thought of it. _Haggar_.

"Wha- hold on, is that _Keith_!?"

Lance's voice served to snap her out of her own inner monologue, shaking it off with haste. Regardless of what was going on here, Shiro had seen to it to bring this Keith back- and therefore, she had an obligation of care, one that she would not abandon.

He was right about one thing- he _would_ need that healing pod.

"Princess," Shiro looked at her, for the moment, ignoring Lance's outburst, "-tell me you have that pod ready."

"I- yes." Allura told him. "Coran is waiting in the med bay as we speak."

"Okay, wait, hold on," Lance cut in, not satisfied with being ignored, "-this is _crazy_. That's Keith, right? It's not just me who sees that, right?"

"I know this is a confusing situation," Shiro began, glancing back towards him, "-and we'll discuss it. But our job as paladins isn't over yet."

"But-" Lance began.

"We got it." Pidge cut him off. "Lance and I can deal with the rest of the prisoners."

Lance looked like he wanted to protest, before he quickly shut his mouth. "Fine. But we better be getting an explanation."

"And you will." Shiro promised him. "Or as much as one as we can give."

His gaze drifted towards her then, and it was then that she knew that he was thinking the same thing she was. It was a nauseating thought, but she forced herself not to dwell on it.

Shiro was correct. Their job wasn't over yet.

"Come," she said, "-let us make haste."

Turning on her heel, she heard Shiro shift the unconscious body, before quickly falling into step behind her. She forced herself not to think, for she knew if she began to, she would not stop, not anytime soon.

Right now, the situation called for focus.

"Ah, princess," Coran looked up as she entered, "-I've got that pod you requested all ready to go. Where's our-?"

She watched as Coran's mouth fell open- though to his credit, he just as quickly shut it, recovering his composure. "Right, well- pod's all ready, like I said."

Smiling at him, she understood all too well how he felt. "Thank you, Coran."

"I- will you be needing a hand then?" Coran asked. "Getting ah- getting him in?"

"I'll be fine, Coran." Shiro replied. "He doesn't weigh very much."

Which didn't at all sound like a good thing. Even with her limited knowledge of human anatomy, she knew that they were not supposed to be this skinny. Starvation had been non-existent on Altea, but she had seen its effects on countless other alien races- enough to know without even needing to be asked that he had been starved.

She was unsure what to make of that.

Instead, she stood back, watching as Shiro tried to load the... well he couldn't be _Keith_ , not exactly. She had seen to the results of Kethe's medical exams herself- if there had not been enough evidence that he was the real thing, she would have never allowed him to stay on the Castle of Lions.

The red lion, she knew, could not be fooled.

"I can invert it, you know," Coran piped up, "-they're designed to be vertical, but if you give me a few ticks, I can modify it so that the pod's horizontal. Might be easier on the lad."

Looking over towards Coran, gratitude flashed through Shiro's eyes. "That'd be great, Coran. Thanks."

Carefully pulling the boy from the pod, he cradled him in his arms as Coran made quick work of the pod. With a bit of effort, he realigned it, so that it lay flat against the ground, as opposed to standing upright- a much easier position for someone in such poor condition.

It was with all the care in the world that Shiro set the boy down, only finally seeming to really breathe once the protective shield phased into place. Once it fogged up, indicating that the process had begun, his shoulders slumped, and he staggered a step back.

"Whoa there," Coran began, holding out a hand to help balance him, "-you're sure you don't need one of these?"

"I'm fine, Coran." Shiro promised him. "Just a lot to think about."

"Yes, well," arching his brows, Coran's gaze briefly flickered back towards her, before he fixed it back on Shiro again, "-can't say that I blame you. Is that really-?"

"No."

Shiro's reply was quick. In other circumstances, she would almost say it was _too_ quick, but there was no one here who knew Keith better than him.

She trusted his judgement.

"I assume you'll want me to do some scans, then." Coran noted.

"Can you?" Allura asked.

"Shouldn't be a problem." Coran told her, bringing up a status screen. "Should be simple."

"How long do you think he'll be in there?" Shiro asked.

"Can't say." Coran admitted. "The system is still trying to calibrate just how long. But I wouldn't be surprised if it took up to a whole movement for him to recover, and even then, we'll have our work cut out for us. There's only so much these pods can do."

"But you do think he'll recover." Shiro stated.

Coran merely frowned. "That depends on him, really."

It clearly wasn't what he wanted to hear.

"Shiro," Allura began, "-do you think you could share with us just how you came to find him? And I must admit, I am curious as to why you are so certain that this is _not_ the real Keith."

 _She_ was fairly certain as well, but she was curious as to how _Shiro_ had come to that conclusion. He would have not said what he had, and so firmly, if he were not absolutely certain.

Looking up at her, Shiro gave her a rueful smile. "Just calling him _Keith_ was enough to send him into a panic attack."

The implications of his words were not lost on her.

* * *

"So, any chance you know what's going on here?"

Turning to look at Lance, Pidge merely shook her head. "No clue."

She wished she did, but frankly, she was totally lost. She'd been hoping that they'd finally found her father, not... whatever this was.

A mess, that's what this was.

A complete and total mess.

"Yeah, didn't think so." Lance frowned. "Do you know where Hunk-?"

"He went to find Keith." Pidge replied, barely even realizing she'd cut him off. "Knowing him, he's probably holed himself up in the red lion."

"...by Keith, you mean like, _our_ Keith, right?" Lance asked.

"Yes, Lance, _our_ Keith." Pidge told him, shooting him a look. "Who else would I mean?"

"Look, there's two of them now, okay?" Lance protested. "I just wanted to make sure."

Fair enough. Unless Keith had some sort of super secret twin brother who had been raised in space, that was the only viable explanation.

Which meant one of them had to be a fake.

Or a _clone_ , to be more precise.

She fully understood why Hunk had left in such a hurry. Heck, she'd been thinking about doing it herself- if Shiro hadn't told him to do it, she'd be the one standing in front of the red lion right now.

Why wouldn't she? _She_ was the one that Keith had spoken to about his imposter syndrome, she knew this had to be all of his worst fears come to life.

Yet here she was, assisting the prisoners. Shiro was right- they still had work to do. But that didn't mean that she had to _like_ it. Best to just finish up as quick as possible.

"So do you think it's some kind of trap?" Lance asked after awhile.

"Like I said, I don't know." Pidge told him. "We should wait to hear what Shiro has to say before we jump to any conclusions."

"Yeah, what's up with that?" Lance frowned. "He kinda made it sound like he knew what was going on. Him and Allura."

"They've probably been discussing it." Pidge said. "It's not surprising. We've all been trying to solve the mystery of just what that witch did to Keith."

"Yeah, but like, why wouldn't they share that with us?" Lance asked. "We're a part of this team too. Pretty sure we're all worried about mullet."

"Maybe they just didn't want to say anything until they had concrete evidence?" Pidge frowned. She wasn't gonna lie, that part kind of bugged her too. "And really? Mullet? Still?"

"Hey, I can't just call him _braid_!" Lance protested. "Doesn't sound right."

"And mullet _does_?" Pidge asked, arching her brows.

"Like you're any good at nicknames." Lance huffed. "I mean, who the heck names themselves _Pidge Gunderson_? You could have gone with anything, and you went with that!"

"Hey, I happen to like the name I picked out!" Pidge narrowed her eyes. "Besides, if you have a problem with Pidge, take it up with Matt. _He_ was the one that gave me that nickname, you know."

Shrugging his shoulders, Lance seemed to drop it. His silence didn't last long, but by the time he piped up again, the topic had changed. "...so what do you think we should call him?"

"Who?"

"Keith." Lance told her. "Or well, not _Keith_ , but-"

"...the Keith that Shiro found?" Pidge ventured.

"Yeah, him." Lance said. "I mean, they can't _both_ be Keith."

"Weren't we just discussing if this was some kind of trap?" Pidge asked. "Why are we talking about what to call him?"

"Well, we've got to call him _something_." Lance said.

Fair enough. Mulling it over for a moment, Pidge racked her brain for something that would fit. "How about x?"

"X?" Lance asked. "Why x?"

"You know, like variable." Pidge told him. "Seeing as he's an unknown factor and all."

"Hm," frowning, Lance considered it, "-nerdy, but I like it."

"I'll just take that as a compliment."

* * *

"They're not here yet?"

Glancing up at the sound of Lance's voice, Shiro shook his head. "Keith still needs some time to calm down."

According to the brief message that Hunk had sent him, Keith had been pretty wound up when he found him. He'd managed to calm him down some, but from the sound of it, he still needed some time to cool off before he was ready to face anyone else.

Lips set in a tight frown, he turned to look at the healing pod. He didn't like seeing Keith like this- _any_ version of Keith, even one that was probably some kind of clone. According to Coran, the cryo-replenisher would help a lot, but it would still be up to them to help him regain both the weight and the muscle mass that he'd lost.

If he ever had it in the first place.

It had taken what felt like forever, but the system had finally finished calibrating. Coran's rough estimate had been right- he'd be in there for about a full week. It was possible to keep him in there longer, but at that point, it would just effectively be the same as keeping him in stasis, and he wasn't so sure how he felt about that idea.

Closing his eyes, Shiro turned away. Ideally, he wanted to wait for Hunk and Keith, but-

"Shiro."

Eyes snapping open, they quickly fell on Keith. It was a face that had taken some getting used to, but now he couldn't see it as being anything other than unquestionably Keith.

"Keith," giving him a genuine smile, he felt something in him ease, "-I'm glad you could make it."

Nodding his head, Keith shifted his gaze, letting it fall on the healing pod. It wasn't possible to see the figure inside from where he was standing, but he still tensed.

"You don't have to look if you're not ready." Shiro told him. "You know that, right?"

Gaze flickering towards him, Keith looked almost grateful. "I know."

He went anyways.

Hunk looked up, meeting his eyes, silently asking if he should shadow him- but Shiro just shook his head. This was something Keith needed to face alone.

From his vantage point, he couldn't make out Keith's eyes. His bangs got in the way. He watched as Keith rested a clawed hand on the pod, peering down at the prone figure inside- at his own face, reflecting back at him.

Human.

It was a face he'd only seen once.

For a long time, he simply stood there in silence. If it weren't for the steady rise and fall of his chest, he'd say that he'd gone as still as a statue.

"I didn't-" Keith began, not yet looking up, "-I didn't know."

And that was his cue.

Pushing himself up off the wall he was leaning on, Shiro made his way over towards Keith. Resting a hand on his shoulder, he felt him tense underneath it- before slowly allowing himself to relax. "It's okay, Keith. We know."

Keith looked up at him, golden eyes filling his vision. Adapting to them had taken longer than he wanted to admit- for the first few days, he'd had a rough time just meeting his gaze.

Now they were just another part of Keith.

"But I-"

"This isn't your fault, Keith." Shiro told him. "You couldn't have known. None of us could have."

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead, he just nodded, dropping his gaze. His face, with its Galra features, reflected in the false glass of the healing pod, just inches away from that of his human counterpart's.

"Come on," giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, Shiro motioned with his head, "-I think Allura and I owe you all an explanation."

Moving away from the healing pod, he watched out of the corner of his eye as Keith lingered for a second longer, before he too, drew away. Joining the others in the center of the room, he hung towards the back, feeling more like a distant shadow than a member of the team.

He didn't like it, but he'd let him be for now. Hopefully what he had to say would clear his doubts.

"Wait so," Lance piped up, "-you have one right? An explanation, I mean?"

"We have a strong _theory_ , at least." Allura said. "But in regards to an actual _explanation_... no, I am afraid not."

"...you know what, I'll take it." Lance told her.

"We'll, you're going to have to, because it's all we've got." Shiro remarked. "Allura, why don't you start?"

"As you all know," Allura began, stepping forward, "-I have been searching for answers as to just what it is that Haggar did to Keith to cause him to lose his memories. When I discovered that she was actually Altean, I began to suspect that her true identity was that of Honerva, the Altean alchemist that my father assigned to study the rift."

"The one that married Zarkon?" Pidge asked.

Nodding her head, Allura frowned. "Yes. Like my father, Honerva possessed a deep understanding of Altean alchemy."

"So what, she used it to create a duplicate Keith?" Lance asked.

Out of the corner of his eye, he didn't miss the way Keith flinched.

"Not exactly." Shiro replied.

"We believe that the answer lies within an ancient Altean ritual, one pertaining to memory." Allura began. "Albeit one whose purpose that Haggar has grossly perverted."

"Sounds pretty par for the course for her." Pidge observed.

"But hey, this means you know what she did to our favorite purple fuzzball, right?" Lance asked, pointedly ignoring the glower Keith sent in his direction.

"I," Allura began, hesitating for a moment, "-I cannot say for certain, but given Shiro's recent discovery..."

"-can we just cut to the chase already?" Keith spoke up. "Look, no offense, but if you've got some kind of answer, I want to hear it."

"Right, of course." Allura nodded, not looking in the least offended by Keith's sudden outburst. "We believe that what Shiro found is the vessel that contains Keith's memories."

"Vessel." Keith repeated, brow furrowing. "Wait, so you're saying-?"

"We believe it's a clone!" Coran piped up. "Rather convincing, really, but not enough to fool my eye."

Relief washed over Keith with the force of a wave, causing him to sink to his knees. Thankfully, Hunk was right there, kneeling down beside him, a steadying hand on his back.

"I'm not-" Keith stammered, "-I thought I was-"

"See?" Hunk beamed. "What did I tell you?"

"Just for the record, I told you as well." Pidge chimed in.

"Wait, told him what?" Lance asked, brows knitting together. "Did I miss something here? I feel like I missed something."

"Keith thought he was a clone." Pidge supplied.

Letting out a loud snort, Lance waved his hand in dismissal. "What? That's dumb. Why would Keith be a clone?"

Maybe it was the brazen dismissal of a fear he'd held close to his chest for so long that did it, but something put the fire back in Keith's chest. Glowering at Lance, Keith narrowed his eyes. "I can think of a lot of reasons."

"To be fair, so can I." Pidge added. "Plus, you know- there's a clone of Keith literally right over there."

Opening his mouth, Lance quickly shut it. "Point taken."

"But you're sure?" Keith asked. "You're sure that's-?"

"Quite." Coran informed him. "I was able to do some quick scans. Not in much depth, mind you, but enough to be able to determine one thing- that his brain is rather young."

"I mean, to be fair, we _are_ all kind of on the young side." Hunk told him. "I mean, except for Shiro. No offense."

"None taken." Shiro told him, holding up a hand.

"Yes, but his is younger still." Coran said. "It's fully formed, yes, no worries there- but it shows no signs of aging at all, especially when compared to the scans we did of Number Four's brain."

"Okay," Keith began, slowly getting back to his feet, "-so he's a clone. How do you know he has...?"

"He knew who I was." Shiro told him.

Frowning, Keith tilted his head. "...yeah, that'd work."

"Okay, so wait," Lance began, "-if he's got Keith's memories, does that mean he like, thinks _he's_ Keith?"

Brow furrowing, Shiro's mouth tightened in a frown. "I'm... not actually sure. He acted like he was having some kind of a panic attack when I called him Keith. After that, he kind of passed out, so I didn't exactly have a chance to ask him any questions."

He wished he had a straight answer to that, but he didn't. The panic attack had been... telling, but there was a chance it might not mean what he thought it did. This was a delicate situation, and the last thing they needed was to rush to conclusions.

Hunk winced at that, seeming sympathetic. "I'm guessing that's not something we can find out with scans."

"No, I'm afraid not." Coran told him. "We'll have to wait for him to wake up, and see what he has to tell us."

"Is that even a good idea?" Pidge asked. "I mean, for all we know, this could be some kind of a trap."

"Oh, so _now_ you think it's a trap." Lance noted, arching his brows.

"Hey, I never said it wasn't." Pidge shot back. "All I'm saying is, we should be careful."

"I don't know," Hunk frowned, "-I really don't think this is a trap. I mean... you saw what condition he was in, right? It looks more like Haggar just... threw him out."

"I have to agree with Hunk." Allura chimed in. "Given the circumstances, I am skeptical this was meant as a trap. So long as Coran's brain scans turn out clean, I say we should release him once he recovers."

"Shiro?" Pidge looked towards him. "You're our leader. What should we do?"

Frowning, Shiro turned towards Keith. "Keith, you're the one this involves more than anyone else. What do you want to do?"

Staring at him, Keith considered the question. "I think- I think we should give him a chance."

He didn't sound very certain about it, but he had kind of put him on the spot. He'd accept that for now, but he'd also give him some time to think it over- just in case he changed his mind.

This was an important decision, he didn't want him to feel rushed. There was no doubt that this wouldn't have _some_ kind of an impact on the team, though at this early stage, he couldn't even begin to hazard a guess as to _what_.

Personally? He didn't like the idea of keeping him trapped in there either.

Maybe he _wasn't_ Keith- maybe Pidge was even right, and this _was_ some kind of trap. But it still didn't feel right to him.

He'd _been_ a prisoner of the Galra. He knew _exactly_ how it felt, and even then, he'd been kept in better conditions than they'd found the clone in. Whether the clone thought of himself as Keith or not, that alone was enough to make him sympathize with him.

"Alright," Shiro said, "-guess it's settled."

* * *

Things got busy once they got to Olkarion.

Everyone expected it. It was practically routine at this point. The addition of an extra passenger didn't change things any.

Besides, like Coran put it- he wasn't exactly going anywhere.

Not for a full movement, at least. He'd rigged the pod to notify him if anything went wrong, but as far as he could tell, although the clone was several malnourished, there didn't seem to be anything physically wrong with him, no injuries of any kind- at least, not based off his initial scan.

When things finally calmed down enough to take a breather, she was surprised to find that she wasn't alone. It wasn't like Keith was an unfamiliar sight, but he tended to spend more of his break time on Olkarion out in the forests than he did in the city itself, even if the overlook that she had picked did have a great view of them.

Maybe he just didn't feel like being alone right now.

Which was fair. Today's events had been pretty... well, _shocking_ , to say the least. Even if they had come with the edge of relief that what they had found was a clone, and _not_ the real Keith, it still meant that there had been someone out there all this time who had likely _believed_ himself to be Keith, rotting away in a Galra prison cell.

It was enough to make her hope that this _was_ some kind of trap.

Glancing up at her, Keith gave her a half-smile. "Hey."

"Hey yourself." Pidge told him. "Not out playing nature boy?"

Letting out a snort, Keith hung his head, braid dangling over his shoulder. He was wearing his Blade of Marmora armor, but his hood was pulled down, his braid unhooked. "I spent maybe five months living on a lifeless asteroid in the middle of space. Can you blame me?"

Dimly, it occurred to her that Olkarion might be the first time that Keith had ever _seen_ greenery- at least, in so far as he could remember. She didn't know much about his time with the Blade before they had found him, but from the sound of it, he hadn't left the base much. His mission with Hunk had basically been his first mission as a proper Blade, since he'd only passed the trials a month earlier.

Precisely one month after Ulaz's death.

She never asked, mostly because she didn't have to.

"Nah," leaning over the railing, Pidge grinned, "-even I might want to roll around in the dirt after that long."

Crinkling his nose, Keith frowned. "I don't roll around in the dirt."

"I'm not being _literal_." Pidge told him. "Or did you really think _I_ roll around in dirt?"

"Don't know." Keith said. "Humans are weird."

It took her a moment, but she got it. Lifting her brows, she peered over at him. "Was that a joke?"

"...maybe?" Keith's brow furrowed, like he wasn't sure anymore. "I'm still working on my sense of humor. Hunk thought it was funny."

"I'll give it three stars." She told him.

Arching a brow, Keith peered at her. "...out of?"

"Not telling." Sticking out her tongue, she let out a chuckle at the glare Keith sent her way. "How are you holding up?"

Glower fading, Keith leaned back against the railing, folding his arms in front of him. "I don't know. It's a lot to take in."

Letting out a low hum in agreement, Pidge nodded her head. "Yeah, that's fair. If I found out the Galra cloned me, I'd be pretty weirded out too. But hey, at least maybe you can get your memories back now, right?"

"I don't think it's that simple." Keith told her.

"Well, sure," Pidge frowned, recalling what they had been told, "-Allura might not know how to do it _now_ , but it's not like she can't _learn_."

Frowning, Keith's brow wrinkled. "That's not what I meant."

Blinking, Pidge looked up at him. Seeing a human version of Keith again, even if it was a clone, had really brought one thing home to her- that at some point, she had become used to seeing him like this. Purple, covered in fur.

It was enough that she sometimes caught herself forgetting that he was ever human.

Or well, _more_ human.

"I mean," Keith began, the furrow of his brow deepening, "-I know more than anyone what it's like to not have any memories. It doesn't feel right, subjecting someone else to it."

"Well yeah," Pidge admitted, "-but they're _your_ memories."

"Maybe." Keith admitted. "But if we took them away, what would he have left?"

Opening her mouth to respond, Pidge quickly shut it. It was a good question, and not one that she had given a lot of thought to. While she wasn't entirely sold on this whole thing being some sort of a trap, she hadn't exactly stopped to think about the clone all that much- not a surprise, given that they knew so little about him.

What _would_ he have left?

Memories of being held prisoner by the Galra.

Okay, yeah. That sucked. She wouldn't wish that one anyone, weird clone or not.

"...maybe Allura can duplicate them?" Pidge ventured.

"Maybe." Keith agreed. "I don't know if I'm ready yet, though."

Yeah, that was fair too.

"Besides," Keith added, "-we don't even know for sure if he thinks he's _me_ , yet."

Yeah, that was the other problem.

"Ugh, don't remind me." Pidge sighed. "Imagine getting rescued from a Galra prison, only to find out you're not who you think you are."

"Yeah," Keith said, leveling a blank stare at her, "-can't imagine."

She winced at that. Right, bad choice of words. "Sorry."

Heaving a sigh, Keith shook his head. "Don't be."

They stood in silence, though not an uncomfortable one, for what felt like a good while after that. Looking down over the railing, she could just barely pick out the people milling down below. Catching sight of Matt, she grinned, watching as he paused to help direct a pair of lost aliens, likely refugees.

She tried to imagine what it would be like if it was _Matt_ that had been cloned. Assuming it wasn't some evil puppet, it would still be her brother. It wasn't like she could cast him out just because he wasn't who he thought he was.

Which still wasn't the same of having a clone of _yourself_.

She couldn't even begin to wrap her head around that.

The fact that x still appeared to be human was another wrench in what was already an admittedly complicated situation. If x thought he was Keith, did he know that he was half-Galra? If he _didn't_ think he was Keith, did he know that he was a clone?

Keith was right. It was a lot to process.

A trap would be so much simpler. If he was just some evil clone planted there to cause discord in their ranks, she could deal with that. Just keep him on ice for as long as it took Allura to learn how to extract his memories, and be done with it.

If he wasn't...

...well, she'd probably have to think of a better name for him than _x_.

* * *

Letting out a huff, he glowered up at the ceiling.

It shouldn't come as any surprise to him that he couldn't sleep, not tonight, and yet, he couldn't help but be annoyed by that simple fact. Groaning, he pushed himself up into a sitting position, his tail flicking in annoyance behind him.

He hadn't lied when he'd told Pidge it was a lot to take in.

Running a hand through his hair, he briefly debated braiding it, before he shelved the idea. It was obvious he wasn't going to fall asleep, and the longer he lay in bed, the less likely it got. Pulling himself to his feet, he paused for a moment to pick up his knife, sheathing it at his back, before he left his room.

Ears twitching, he could make out the faint sounds of the other paladins sleeping- or in Hunk's case, not so faint. It was strange- when he'd first arrived here, he never could have imagined this- any of it.

To be honest, he'd never expected to learn _anything_ about his past. He'd fully expected to go the rest of his life without answers as to who he really was, or where he had come from. He'd accepted that- or at least, he thought he had.

Sometimes, he still thought that would be easier.

Knowing that he _wasn't_ some kind of clone didn't make the feeling of being an imposter go away. He wished it did, but it didn't. It helped, yeah- but he got the feeling he'd be holding onto it for awhile, if not for the rest of his life.

Even if Allura could somehow return his memories to him, he didn't think that would change. _He_ had changed- that much was clear to anyone with eyes.

He found himself in the med baby without thinking about it.

He almost considered turning back, but changed his mind. If his feet had brought him here, it was probably for a reason. Letting them carry him inside, he hovered over the healing pod, staring down at the person inside.

Him.

But not.

Carefully resting a hand on the false glass of the pod, Kethe stared down at the face inside. It was different, yes- human, but he could still see himself in it.

Pidge had called him _x_ , an unknown variable.

"Couldn't sleep?"

Turning on his heel, he met Shiro's eyes. "Too much to think about."

"It was a big day." Shiro said simply.

Letting out a faint laugh, Kethe drew away from the pod. "That's one way of putting it."

"You know if you want to talk about it, I'm always available." Shiro told him.

He knew he hadn't meant it that way, but he felt a twinge of guilt at those words. Even without his memories, he could tell that they were more distant than they had been. It wasn't that he was trying to _avoid_ Shiro- maybe at first, sort of, but not any longer. It was just...

...it wasn't the same.

It was the same instinct that had once told him that he was wrong.

He had strong instincts. When he hadn't known anything else, that was the first thing he learned about himself. If the clone really was anything like him...

...he'd know too.

Closing his eyes, Kethe listened to the sound of Shiro's breathing. It was steady, patient. He'd lapsed into silence, but it didn't bother him at all. He was fully ready to wait for as long as he needed- that was the sort of person he was.

He was a good person.

And it hurt that he didn't remember him.

Heaving a sigh, he felt his shoulders slump. Maybe some part of him _did_ want his memories back, but at the same time, he was afraid. Because once he did, he'd know for a fact just how much he had changed- and there was no way that he _hadn't_.

But also... he'd meant what he'd said to Pidge. If getting them back meant putting someone in his same situation, then he didn't want them.

It was his answer, one he'd arrived at after mulling it over for the entire day. It was just... he didn't know if it was an answer that anyone else wanted.

"I never asked, but," opening his eyes, Kethe looked towards Shiro, "-how did you know?"

Shiro's gaze didn't falter. "Who do you think taught you to fly?"

"Hm," he frowned, tilting his head, "-good point."

"When I saw the red lion, I knew right away that _had_ to be you in it." Shiro told him. "I didn't know _how_ , I just knew that it was true. And when you came out..."

"...you realized I was Galra?"

Shiro's expression faltered at that. "Yeah."

"At first," Shiro began, "-at first I thought Haggar had turned you into one, but that didn't sound quite right. Then I remembered your knife."

Letting out a faint hum, he drew it. It had become habit- he'd take the blade he had gone through his trials with when he went on missions, but otherwise, he carried this one. It couldn't transform- or at least, _he_ couldn't transform it, but it didn't feel right to leave it behind.

It felt right.

"Did you know," he began, "-that a Marmoran's life force is linked to their blade?"

"No," Shiro blinked, "-I didn't know that."

"Regris told me." Kethe told him, lightly tracing the sigil with a finger.

"So your mother... she's alive, right?" Shiro asked.

"Yeah," glancing up at him, he gave him a faint smile, "-I guess so."

"Can I...?" Shiro asked, sounding uncertain.

Nodding his head, he passed the knife over to him. Giving him a grateful smile, Shiro accepted it, carefully holding it by its hilt. "Has Kolivan told you anything about her?"

Shaking his head, Kethe frowned. "No. I think he knows who she is, though."

"I could talk to him." Shiro told him. "I think you have a right to know."

It was... tempting, he'd admit. He wasn't sure how his mother would take the fact that he looked Galra now, but he didn't think she'd hate him for it. Beyond that, he had no idea what to expect from her.

He didn't even know how long she had been his life. Didn't know if he was _supposed_ to remember her or not.

He couldn't even imagine what she'd think of there being _two_ of him.

"I think he'll tell me when it's time." Kethe said finally. "But thanks."

"Let me know if you ever change your mind." Shiro said, extending the knife, hilt first. "Here."

Taking his knife from him, Kethe sheathed it once more behind his back. He wondered if the clone would want it when he woke up- if he would demand what he thought was his life back from him. A month ago, he might have even given it to him.

Now he wasn't so sure.

He was still Kethe, proud agent of the Blade of Marmora, liaison to Voltron. Galra. He would _always_ be Kethe.

But he was also Keith Kogane, the red paladin of Voltron, former Galaxy Garrison cadet. Human, of Earth.

"You know that whatever happens," Shiro began, "-you're a part of us now. Nothing will ever change that."

Closing his eyes, Keith felt himself smile.

"I know."


	14. allura side

Here's the next chapter! I actually was almost finished with this earlier this afternoon, but changed my mind at the absolute last minute about a major event in this chapter (the clone waking up) and thus, rewrote the entire latter half of it. So that's fun! But here we are, just a bit delayed! Hope everyone enjoys!

* * *

 **abyss of memory**

 **allura side**

* * *

"Princess?"

Well, now this was unexpected.

"Keith," setting aside her work for a moment, she looked up towards the half Galra, "-to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Her words were spoken without the faintest hint of irony. Perhaps it had been difficult to accept at first, but as time passed, she began to gradually grow used to his presence on the castle-ship. In hindsight, it felt a bit silly, really- the fact that she hadn't known did not change the fact that Keith had _always_ been Galra.

If anything, the only thing that had changed was that he looked it now.

It wasn't bad, not truly. The Blade of Marmora... they felt as if they were what the Galra had once been, before the war had begun, or perhaps even longer than that. She'd been born after the comet had struck Daibazaal, so she could not say for certain.

Besides, the alternative could have been much worse.

"I uh, wanted to talk," shifting on his feet, Keith hesitated, "-about the clone."

"Oh yes, of course." Extending a hand, she motioned to the chair across from her. "Please, have a seat."

Frowning, Keith hesitated for a moment longer, before accepting her offer. She watched with faint amusement as his tail twitched out of the way, the tip of it lying in his lap. Lance had told her once that Keith possessed what on Earth would be called a lion's tail, and it was a notion that struck her with great amusement.

Though she would admit, she was rather surprised to learn that there were lions on Earth. _Actual_ lions, that was.

Whatever the case, it was rather appropriate.

Folding her hands in front of her, she studied Keith's features. Unlike the others, she had some prior basis when it came to dealing with the Galra, though Keith's human ancestry could make it a bit tricky at times. He was more expressive than she was used to, more like the Galra of the old, in a way.

"So," she began, giving him an encouraging smile, "-what is it that you wanted to talk about?"

She could understand the timing of it- according to Coran, the healing cycle would complete itself come tomorrow. They had put the past week to good use, discussing how to handle every eventuality, and were more prepared than ever for when the clone woke.

Keith, of course, had been involved in all talks. Shiro was correct- he was the one that this effected the most, so it was unfair to try and leave him out of them. Whatever they decided on, Keith had the final say.

She had spoken with Kolivan, briefing him on the situation. He'd been... rather surprised, she had not failed to notice, but he had understood. For the time being, neither Keith nor Regris would be called away- the latter, as she thought it would be wise to keep someone around who could provide Keith support in ways she knew that the rest of them couldn't.

In truth, she had been slightly apprehensive about Regris at first, but she quickly came to like him. She could see why Keith had chosen to confide in him.

Chewing on his lip, Keith looked as if he was having trouble forming words. As anxious as she was to hear what was on his mind, she did not rush him. This would be the first time Keith had ever come to _her_ about any of his worries, and she was not about to risk chasing him away.

Not just the first time since returning to the Castle of Lions- but the first time _period_. To her, it was a victory.

Even if he _did_ still refuse to call her by name.

"I'm not giving up the red lion."

Blinking, Allura had to admit, she hadn't been expecting that. Mostly because she hadn't even assumed it had been in question.

"Well of course not." Allura stated. " _You_ are its true paladin."

As much as it still deigned to allow her to fly it from time to time, it did not change the fact that Keith was the one it had chosen. They possessed a deep bond between them- so deep, that the red lion was willing to fly into the depths of space just to rescue him.

It had never done that before, even for her father.

Keith, apparently, hadn't expected her answer either, for he blinked, just the same as she had. "Oh, uh- that's- that's good."

Furrowing her brow, Allura could only frown. "Did you truly believe I would make you give it up?"

"No!" Keith blurted out, perhaps a little too quickly. "No, that's not- I just... a human paladin would be better, right?"

Arching a brow, Allura felt her frown deepen. "According to Coran's scans, the clone is _still_ half Galra."

"Well yeah, but he's still more human than me." Keith said.

"Perhaps," Allura admitted, "-and perhaps even a month ago, I might have agreed with you. But now I know for certain that the red lion has chosen you- and twice over, at that."

Dropping his gaze, Keith's eyes disappeared underneath his bangs. It didn't matter- all she had to do was glance down at his tail, watching as the tip of it danced, to know that her words had pleased him.

"Right," masking his own faint smile with a curt nod of his head, Keith jolted to his feet, "-okay. Glad we had this talk."

In spite of herself, Allura could not help but laugh. He could be rather awkward at times, but it was endearing, in its own way.

"Do you think it will be a problem?" Allura asked. "The clone wanting to fly the red lion?"

Keith seemed to consider the question. "I don't know. Maybe."

Fair enough. There were any number of uncertainties surrounding the clone, including whether or not he presumed himself to be the real Keith. While no one liked the idea of shattering such a belief, and therefore, his world view, it was also something that they had all agreed could not persist.

Better to get it out sooner, rather than later.

That said, she did not think any of the other possibilities were better- that he was either some kind of evil clone constructed by Haggar to trick them all, or that the clone was fully aware that he was a clone, and therefore, knew that all the memories he possessed did not belong to him.

It would be enough to drive one mad.

They had considered it briefly, allowing the clone to continue under the delusion that he was Keith- provided, of course, that he did believe it. But though on the surface, it seemed the kindest option, they had all realized that perhaps in practice, it would actually be the cruelest.

If he were to find out the truth later, from someone else, it would come hand in hand with the knowledge that they had been lying to him, all this time. And that, she knew, would be a horrid thing to do.

In which case, better to be honest, even if it hurt.

"Even if he does," Allura began, "-it will not change my answer."

She watched as something in Keith seemed to ease at her words. Throughout all of this, he had held his head up high- perhaps a bit too much, she suspected. He was trying his hardest to do what he considered to be the right thing throughout all of this, when in reality, it would be perfectly alright for him to be a bit selfish.

Had Haggar succeeded, perhaps the clone would be among them right now, an unwitting spy among their ranks. All while the real thing lived out the life of a Galra solider, unwitting to and unable to recall his true identity.

She could not say for certain if that had been her plan- only that it was a possibility.

Whatever the case, truly, they owed Ulaz more thanks than she could have ever imagined. Were it not for his actions, the circumstances in which they found themselves now might have been far more dire.

She only wished she had known that at the time.

* * *

From the scent wafting out of the kitchen alone, she knew that the one in there _must_ be Hunk. With all due respect to Coran, nothing he could concoct could even come close to matching the culinary feats that the yellow paladin had achieved in the Castle's kitchen.

While it would seem Alteans had them beat when it came to technological matters, she was willing to concede that perhaps Earth had a superior culinary culture.

Wandering into the kitchen, she found that it was almost brimming with food. Far more than any of them could eat, even with Keith and Regris' voracious Galra appetites factored in.

Hunk didn't even look back as she entered, but he must have heard her come in. "No, you can't have any."

A bit taken aback by his sharp tone, Allura blinked. "I... was not planning on it?"

Flinching at her words, Hunk did look back at her this time, now looking properly sheepish. "Oh uh, didn't think it was you, princess. Thought it was Lance again, trying to sneak a bite."

"Well, I can assure you I am not Lance." Allura told him. "Not unless we have somehow switched bodies in the past varga, and there are hardly any two-headed Vaxien snakes lurking around here."

"Okay, first of all, that's a thing?" Hunk asked, looking vaguely distressed. "And second of all, I actually take back what I said just a second ago. Think you can sample this for me? I'm not sure if the flavor is right."

Smiling, Allura stepped fully into the kitchen. Wordlessly, Hunk lifted up a spoon to her, from which she took a tentative sip. "It tastes wonderful, Hunk."

"Yeah, but you don't think it's too much, right?" Hunk asked. "I'm just- I don't want to overwhelm him with flavor."

Blinking at the question, Allura caught the glint of the preservative storage containers from out of the corner of her eye. Hunk must have dug them out of storage. "Is this all for the clone, then?"

"Yeah, yeah, that's the idea." Hunk told her. "I mean- you heard what Coran said. Those pods can only do so much. Thought I'd just get a bit of a head start at formulating a menu."

"Well I think it is wonderful, Hunk." Allura told him. "Both the food and the idea."

"Aw shucks," rubbing the back of his head, Hunk looked bashful, "-I'm just doing what anyone would do."

"Yes, but not everyone could do it with your same skill." Allura told him.

"I'm just doing it like my mom taught me." Hunk told her. "Her and my big sister, we used to spend every weekend cooking up a storm."

There was a hint of melancholy to his tone, which she could more than understand. The paladins all had family back on Earth that they had left behind, without so much as a warning- the only one who didn't, it seemed, was Keith.

And perhaps Shiro. She was... unsure about him. Like Keith, he never exactly spoke much about his time on Earth.

But for those that did... she could understand what it was like to miss their families. To miss their _home_.

After all, no matter how much she wished it, she could never go back to Altea. She'd had a chance, in the alternate reality- but Keith had been right. It likely wasn't the Altea she remembered.

"Sorry, just... I miss them, you know?" Hunk said.

"I understand." Allura told him. "I miss my family as well."

"Yeah, yeah, I guess you would." Hunk said, shifting awkwardly on his feet. Perhaps she should not have brought her family into this- after all, hers was gone now- she could not see them, no matter how much she wished it.

But Hunk was apparently willing to let it go, instead opting to change the subject. "So uh... the flavor, it's- it's fine, right?"

"It is lovely, Hunk." Allura assured him. "I am certain he will love it."

Nodding his head, Hunk turned back to the pot, giving it a stir. "I mean, I know I shouldn't be so worried. Keith's always loved my cooking, and you know, he's his clone and all, so they probably like, have the same taste buds and stuff, but just... I don't know. I don't want to assume they're the _same_ , you know?"

"I understand." Allura told him. It was something that had been on her mind as well. "It may be difficult, but we can help him become his own person."

"His own person, yeah." Hunk echoed. "It's gotta suck, being a clone."

 _That_ she could agree with. What Haggar had done was monstrous- creating a new being simply to house the memories of an old one. The possibility that she might have been priming him to infiltrate the Castle of Lions, before Ulaz helped Keith escape, only made it even worse.

"It will not be easy." Allura said. "But it would hardly be the first time we have had someone onboard with identity issues."

"Yeah, true." Hunk admitted. "But Keith's like, the _easy run_ compared to this. Except... that kind of makes it sound like his issues are like... not as important as the clone's which isn't true, they're just..."

"-not quite as complex?" Allura finished.

"Yeah," Hunk said, "-that."

"We will manage." Allura said. "Of that, I am certain."

Hunk nodded, turning back to his stew. "I mean... provided he's not evil, I guess. I'm _hoping_ he's not evil. I don't want to fight against Keith even if it _is_ a clone."

"Understandable." Allura noted. If she could, she would keep them from it. "By the way, speaking of Lance, have you seen him?"

"Oh uh," frowning, Hunk tried to recall, "-I think he headed planetside. Something about talking to Ryner about some clothes or something?"

"Clothes?" Allura blinked.

"Yeah, for the clone." Hunk told her. "I mean... we can't just keep him in Galra prison rags, right?"

"Well no, but we _do_ have clothes here, on the Castle." Allura observed.

"...we do?" Hunk asked.

"Yes, we do." Allura told him. "But I suppose having a bit more variety would not hurt."

"Yeah, guess not." Hunk frowned. "So uh... you come here for anything in particular? Oh man, I'm not keeping you from making lunch or anything, am I?"

"Not at all." Allura assured him. "I was simply heading in this direction when I caught the scent of your cooking."

Shoulders slumping in relief, Hunk heaved a sigh. "Okay. Okay, good."

"With that said, I should leave you to it." Allura smiled. "Unless there is anything I can do to help...?"

"No, I'm good." Hunk told her, perhaps a bit too quickly. Which... yes, she would admit, her culinary skills were a bit... lacking, in places. "I'd ask Keith, but he's busy with Pidge today. She and Matt are doing a trial run of the new prosthetic we built for Regris."

"Let us hope that it goes a bit more successfully than the last time." Allura observed. It had taken forever to get the dents out of the green lion's hangar.

"Yeah, that's kind of why I'm here, and not there." Hunk admitted. "But if you need me, just you know, give me a call, and I'll come running."

"I will keep that in mind." Allura told him. "Thank you, Hunk."

"Hey, that's the paladin code right?" Hunk beamed. "Help those in need."

"Yes," Allura smiled, "-that it is."

Dismissing herself, she left the pleasant scents of the kitchen behind. There was still time before the clone was scheduled to come out of the pod, so before that happened, there _was_ one person that she wished to speak with.

* * *

"Are you certain you do not wish to be there?"

"We've discussed this." Shiro began, without even so much as looking at her. "It's better if it's just you and Coran. The last thing we want is to overwhelm him."

Feeling herself sigh, Allura merely frowned. Yes, that _was_ what they had all agreed upon- that when the clone woke, it should be herself and Coran who dealt with him. Depending on how things went, he would then gradually be introduced to the rest of the paladins, a process which would culminate in meeting Keith.

It did not mean that they did not care- to the contrary, rather. The last thing they wanted was to overwhelm him, and having a room full of concerned paladins did seem a tad on the overwhelming side.

But that didn't mean she didn't have her concerns.

Taking a seat next to him, Allura smoothed her skirts. Really, if she had her way, she would be wearing her battle gear, but Coran had convinced her to dig out her formal gown. If the clone were evil, it would only hinder her movements, but if he were not, it would perhaps only serve to put him on edge.

And whatever else was true, he had been held in a Galra prison cell for _months_. The last thing they needed to do was to create a tense environment.

Which was why Shiro should be there, she thought.

Except... perhaps not. If the clone _was_ aware that he was a fake, then Shiro's presence might only serve as a further stressor. Detached as they were, she and Coran would be the best choice.

This time, Shiro did look at her. "Shouldn't you be heading to the med bay? I thought Coran said the cycle would finish in half a varga."

"There is still time." Allura told him, resting her hands in her lap. "No need to rush."

Heaving a sigh, Shiro seemed to sense he wasn't getting out of this. "You want to talk to me."

"I want to talk to you." Allura agreed. "I understand that this situation must be difficult for you, given how close you were to Keith."

"Difficult." Shiro repeated, closing his eyes. "Yes. That's a good word."

Frowning, Allura stared at her own hands. "I will not presume to know the details of your relationship with him, but I do know that it is not what it once was."

For a long moment, Shiro didn't say anything, merely hanging his head. He'd opened his eyes, but he didn't look at her, instead staring straight ahead, as if the wall of the lounge held all the answers to the questions he possessed.

If only.

"Keith... he was like a brother to me." Shiro told her. "He didn't- his father died when he was young, so he didn't have anyone left to look out for him."

She had suspected something like that, but to hear it out loud was another thing entirely.

"I am sorry to hear that." Allura told him. "That could not have been an easy time for him."

"It wasn't." Shiro said, still gazing straight ahead. "We met when he was fourteen. Before that, he'd been passed around from foster home to foster home, but nobody ever kept him for long. Eventually they just kind of decided he was a lost cause."

Giving him a low hum, Allura merely nodded her head. The last thing she wanted to do was interrupt, since it didn't sound as if Shiro was quite finished yet.

She wondered if perhaps it was because they sensed it- something about Keith that did not belong. An alien, quite literally, among them. She understood these _foster homes_ in concept, though there had been nothing comparable on Altea- if the parents of a child died, they were always, without fail, taken in by family.

Not so, it seemed, on Earth.

"I've told you how I used to work for a place called the Galaxy Garrison, right?" Shiro asked, finally looking at her.

"Yes, you mentioned it." Allura said. "Keith and the others trained there."

"He almost didn't get in." Shiro told her. "If I hadn't been the recruiter that they sent around to schools, I don't think he would have even been given the chance. His teacher didn't exactly seem to think much of him. Called him a discipline case."

Allura's face fell. That didn't sound fair at all.

"I guess, to be fair, he _did_ kind of steal my car." Shiro added, almost as an afterthought.

"He-" Allura began, her mouth working, but for a moment, unable to form words, "-he stole your car?"

If she recalled correctly, that was the type of vehicle they used for transport on Earth. She had heard Pidge mention in passing that they could not gain licenses to drive one until they were at least sixteen, which from the sound of it, Keith very much had not been.

"Apparently not his first time either." Shiro noted, almost with a chuckle, one that was almost fond. "Guess it makes the fact that we had to steal the red lion pretty ironic."

Oh, yes. She'd forgotten about that. Yes, she supposed it would.

"I vouched for Keith. Combined with his talent, that got him in." Shiro told her. "Not that it was smooth sailing. By the time I'd escaped from the Galra ship, he'd managed to get himself kicked out of the Garrison somehow. Still don't know how he did it."

Leaning back, Shiro's brows furrowed. "I'll be honest, at first it was just a passing interest. But then I realized that what Keith needed was someone to stick by him, to be there for him. He just... Keith didn't have a lot of people there for him, in life."

"And that was you?" Allura asked.

"That was me." Shiro said, nodding his head. "And Adam."

"Adam?" Allura blinked. She'd not heard that name mentioned before.

"He's my fiancee." Shiro said, almost without thinking. "Or was. We broke it off before Kerberos. He didn't want me to go. Thought it was too dangerous. Which... guess he was right about that, actually."

Merely blinking, Allura took a moment to process this information. She had no idea that Shiro had once been engaged, but she supposed it was difficult to talk about. She felt grateful that he was willing to do so now, and to her at that.

"Do you miss it?" Allura asked.

Shiro blinked, frowning. "Adam?"

Shaking her head, Allura felt that went without saying. "Keith."

"I," opening his mouth, Shiro quickly shut it, "-sometimes."

Hanging his head, Shiro heaved a sigh. "Don't get me wrong. Nothing makes me happier than knowing that Keith is alive, that he's safe. But it's just..."

"...complicated?" Allura finished.

"Yeah." Shiro admitted. "That."

"I think I understand." Allura said. "You miss what you had."

"Yeah," glancing up at her, there was a frankness in Shiro's eyes, "-I do."

"It doesn't mean I don't _like_ Keith. Or well, I guess he'd be _Kethe_ in this context." Shiro frowned, correcting himself. "I- he's still my brother. That hasn't changed. I promised that I would never give up on him, that I would be there for him, and that promise still applies."

Even if only one of them remembered it, she sensed.

Except now there _was_ one who remembered it- only, it wasn't the person he had made the promise to.

"But now there is the clone."

"Now there's the clone." Shiro agreed. "So yeah. It complicates things."

Carefully studying him, Allura's brows furrowed. She certainly could understand how this put him in a rather unique position. From the sound of it, he had once been Keith's sole support system- and now, when he was no longer needed to fill that role, left something empty behind. And with the clone's appearance, and the hanging possibility that it might believe himself to be the real Keith, it did, indeed, complicate things.

Even if he _didn't_ , it still complicated things.

It was not as if she had the knowledge to undo what it was that Haggar had done. Even if she did, she did not know if Keith would let her.

Sometimes she couldn't help but wish that Oriande were more than a folk tale.

"Anyways," getting to his feet, Shiro gave her a strained smile, "-you should head down to the med bay. I should probably find Keith."

Nodding her head, Allura rose to her feet. "Last I checked, he was with Regris. I believe Pidge and Matt are doing a trial run of a new prosthetic today."

Shiro blinked at that. "No Hunk? Thought he was helping with that."

"Hunk has shut himself in the kitchen since this morning." Allura told him. "I believe he said something about creating a special menu with the clone's recovery in mind."

"That sounds like Hunk." Shiro observed, managing a faint smile. "Guess that just leaves Lance, then."

"I believe he is paying Ryner a visit." Allura told him, a slight frown on her face. "Something to do with clothes?"

Opening his mouth to reply, he did not so much as get a chance. Ears twitching at the sound of the alarm, she turned on her heel, brow furrowing. They could not possibly be receiving a distress signal, not now of all times, could they?

They would respond to it if they had to, of course, but the timing was... well, less then ideal, if she was perfectly honest.

On the lounge's view screen, Coran's image flickered to life. "Uh, princess? We _might_ have a small bit of a problem."

Oh dear. She knew that tone. It was the one he used whenever he was making a considerable understatement.

"Coran?" Allura blinked. "I thought you were checking on the clone."

"Uh yes, about that," Coran frowned- and she couldn't help but notice that his surroundings appeared to be those of the med bay, "-it would seem that the pod had the teeniest bit of a calibration error."

"What are you saying, Coran?" Allura asked, exchanging a worried glance with Shiro.

"Did something go wrong with the healing process?" Shiro asked. "Is he-?"

"No, no, that's fine, he's fine." Coran told them. "It's just... he's ah, not actually here."

"He's not," Shiro began, "-wait, Coran, are you saying that the clone is _missing_?"

"...yes. That is what I'm saying exactly." Coran admitted. "On the plus side, since he seems to be moving around, it would seem the pod did its job just fine!"

Missing. The clone was _missing_.

She knew that the pods _could_ have calibration issues, though they were rare. Likely, it was either something about the clone's hybrid physiology that had thrown it off, or perhaps it simply had something to do with the fact that the clone was, well, a _clone_.

It wasn't as if they'd ever had one in the pods before. It had been outlawed, back on Altea.

Tensing, Shiro's brow furrowed. This was not a development any of them had expected. "Alright. You just stay where you are. Princess, is the Castle locked down?"

Nodding her head, she couldn't help but feel a cold knot of dread rise in the pit of her stomach. "I- yes, it should be."

"Double check." Shiro instructed her. "We don't want him slipping out onto Olkarion."

She could not agree more. With a wave of her hand, she brought up a display screen, quickly double checking the settings. Just in case, she locked down both the main hangar, as well as the red lion's hangar- though she doubted the clone would be able to fly the latter.

It never hurt to be sure.

"Coran, I want you to gather everyone on the med bay. Matt and Regris included." Shiro instructed. "Do we know if Lance is back yet?"

"No, I do not believe so." Allura told him. "At least, there's no record of his entry code being used."

"Right," nodding his head, Shiro looked up at Coran's image, "-contact Lance. Tell him stay where he is for now. The last thing we want is for the clone to slip out when he returns."

"Right, I'll see to it." Coran said. "Do you think he's, ah...?"

 _Evil_ , she sensed Coran wanted to say.

"No, nobody is saying that." Shiro said, his voice firm. "I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation for this. For all we know, he might be panicking."

"Either way, we should try to find him as soon as possible." Allura said. Even if he wasn't some kind of puppet, there was still the chance he might hurt himself, or worsen his condition somehow. "Coran, have you tried scanning for his biorhythm?"

"I tried that, but I'm afraid it's just giving me an error." Coran informed her. "I'm afraid that since his signature is so close to Keith's, it's likely interfering with the system."

Right, of course. Since when were things _ever_ that simple?

Shiro just heaved another sigh, running a hand through his forelock. He was doubtlessly thinking the same thing she was.

"Got it." Shiro said. "We're headed your way."

Satisfied with that, the view screen turned dark- Coran had doubtlessly moved on to contacting the other paladins. Now that the immediacy of the call was done, she felt her shoulders slump, only a bit of her held tension escaping.

"This is not what we planned on at all."

Shiro had the audacity to _laugh_ , as if this somehow were not a serious situation. "Guess you could say that."

"And what, pray tell, is so funny?" Allura asked. "We have an intruder on the castle-ship, one that we cannot seem to _find_."

 _Intruder_ was, perhaps a bit harsh, but under the circumstances... well, it fit.

"It's just- it seems like the kind of thing Keith would do." Shiro admitted.

Frowning, Allura's brows knit together. "I do not suppose you know where to _find_ him, then?"

"No," Shiro admitted, "-I don't."

Right. Of course not.

Heaving a sigh of her own, Allura had to admit- out of all the possible things she thought that could have gone wrong, this _hadn't_ been one of them. She hoped Shiro was right, and the clone was simply panicking, because the alternative wasn't pretty.

Even if none of Coran's scans had lead them to believe that there was anything to worry about. Any abnormalities in the clone's brain scans were due to either the cloning process, or to the severe, persistent malnutrition he'd experienced, the latter of which the pod would have likely already fixed.

And yet, in spite of Shiro's reassurances, she couldn't help but worry.

What if this _had_ all been part of some kind of trap?

Granted, it didn't make much sense. While the healing pod could bring him out of the danger zone, the clone was hardly in fighting condition. It would have made more sense to use him to attempt to sow discord amongst the paladins, rather than to lead them on a wild chase throughout the castle-ship.

Whatever the case, they had to _find_ him first.

And that, she thought, might be the real trick of it.


	15. clone side

It's here! The next chapter! He's here! The clone! Two Keiths for the price of one! What a deal! With that said, after this chapter, there will be another break between updates as I work out my approach for the forthcoming chapters. We are still back in season four territory, and there is still plenty of stuff from that season I want to touch on, as well as dealing with the overall plot of the fic itself, so gotta work out just how best to do all that!

So until next time~!

* * *

 **abyss of memory**

 **clone side**

* * *

Keith had run away before.

Not while he had been at the Garrison. Not even while he'd known him. It was just something he knew from reading over his file. He'd never asked Keith about it, and Keith had never spoken to him about it.

He'd been twelve. He'd left school that day, like he always did, but he never turned up at the foster home he was living at at the time. They didn't even report it until the next day, when he hadn't shown up for school, and Shiro was pretty sure it was because it had taken them that long to realize that he was missing. It was long enough to give Keith a head start- when they found him, a week later, he'd already crossed into the next state.

According to the police report, he'd been trying to go home.

It was why Shiro found himself in the red lion's hangar. Even though Allura had sealed it off, it was probably the closest thing Keith had to a home on the Castle of Lions. Or at least, it had been- now, the whole Castle was his home.

But it hadn't been, once.

And the Keith he was looking for was not Keith, not really- it was his clone. One that had his memories, to be sure- but likely, also his issues. His walls.

But he wasn't in the red lion's hangar. He'd checked every inch of it, even recruiting one of the mice to help him. They had all split up in search of Keith's clone- everyone except for Keith, that was, who was to remain on standby in the med bay.

The two of them running into each other by happenstance was the _last_ thing that needed to happen right now. The clone was already badly panicked as it was, there was no point in making things even worse.

He wasn't in the red lion, either. He'd checked there too. It had let him in without a protest, but he hadn't found a trace of the clone.

He'd check Keith's room, but he knew Pidge was already checking the residential floors. It probably would have been the first place she'd checked, so if she hadn't reported back yet, it was safe to say that she hadn't found anything. Hunk had already checked the kitchen- there was a chance he might have been so starved, that he literally wasn't thinking of anything else other than raiding it.

But he wasn't there, and all the food Hunk had left behind was untouched. So no, this wasn't just some kitchen raid.

Heaving a sigh, Shiro ran a hand through his forelock. He tried to think where Keith, the Keith he'd known, might go- but ended up drawing a blank. Outside of the red lion's hangar, he couldn't think of a single place.

The training deck, maybe- except not under these circumstances.

He could think of a few places where _Kethe_ might hide- but all of them required the added mobility his transformation had given him to access. The first time he'd found him on the catwalk high above the red lion's hangar, he'd nearly had a heart attack, but Kethe had made it back down in a way that was nearly effortless.

A malnourished clone probably wouldn't be able to do that.

"Any luck?"

Nearly jumping out of his skin, Shiro snapped his attention towards Matt. Heaving a sigh, his shoulders slumped. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."

"I've been improving my stealth skills lately." Matt grinned.

"Picking up some pointers from Keith?" Shiro asked.

"Could be natural talent." Matt tried to say- but all it took was a pointed look for him to cave. "Yeah, okay, Keith's been teaching me. It's pretty useful for rebel work. Most of our plans involve explosions."

Letting out a low hum, Shiro nodded his head. "He can be a pretty good teacher."

"A bit Spartan," Matt noted, "-but I've read up on how most Galra are instructed, so compared to that, he's practically a saint."

"Don't suppose you read anything about where one might hide." Shiro ventured.

Holding up his hands, Matt shook his head. "Nope, can't help you there. He wasn't on the bridge though, or in the lounge. Take it you haven't had any luck?"

"None." Shiro told him. "I should be able to find him. I _know_ Keith."

"Yeah, but this isn't Keith." Matt told him. "I mean... not exactly."

He gave Matt a weak smile. He got why people were worried, but he did know that. "I know."

Chewing on his lip, Matt looked like he wanted to say something. "You're okay, right?"

"I'm fine." Shiro told him. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Arching a brow, Matt eyed him. "Because your little brother doesn't remember who you are."

Shiro flinched. Plenty of people had expressed their concern, but none of them had done it that _bluntly_. But when he put it like that... yeah, he couldn't exactly deny it.

"I get jealous, sometimes." Shiro admitted. "When I see him with Regris."

"Hey, I get it." Matt told him. "If Pidge forgot about me, I'd probably feel the same way. But you know you can't... you can't use the clone to replace him, right?"

Jerking his head up, Shiro's eyes went wide. Had people really thought he might...?

"No." Shiro said firmly. "Trust me, I'm not planning on doing that."

Frowning, Matt looked like he wasn't quite convinced. "Good. Because he's not Keith."

"I know." Shiro repeated. "Trust me, I know that better than anyone. When he saw me back at the prison... it was like he was looking at a ghost. Afraid."

He had been afraid. _Terrified_ , in fact. He'd panicked so viscerally, that he had passed out. He kept playing it over in his head, hoping that it would give him some sort of clue. But there was no telling what the Galra had done to him, what sort of tactics they might have used- he didn't even know why they were holding the clone there, so far away from any major Galra strongholds.

He would have thought that Haggar would have wanted to keep him closer.

Everything he knew about her suggested that. She played chess- at least, in the metaphorical sense, she did. The druids were her main pawns, but they weren't her only ones- she had others. He knew- he'd been one, once.

So it was hard to imagine that she would have just discarded a pawn like that. Staring down at his right hand, his brow furrowed, watching as his fingers balled into a fist. Leaving him in that condition... Hunk was right, it was like he had been thrown out.

Even if Keith had managed to escape before she could enact her plan, it still didn't make sense. While it wasn't like Haggar had a direct source of information, he was pretty sure she'd be able to figure out that Keith hadn't worked his way back to them. In truth, it had taken upwards of five months to find him, even after he'd been freed, which would have left her plenty of time to try and use the clone to infiltrate them.

But she hadn't. She'd left it to rot in a cell instead. The only reason he could think of for that was if he had somehow been a failure.

"Shiro?"

Matt's voice caused him to blink, jerking his chin up to look at him. "Sorry, just thinking."

"You want to share with the class?" Matt asked.

Smiling a little at the phrasing, Shiro gave him a mirthless smile. "It doesn't make sense."

"That could apply to a lot of things, but I'll bite. What doesn't make sense?" Matt asked.

"Haggar." Shiro told her. "Her plan. Why abandon the clone? She could have used him to infiltrate us, but she didn't even try."

Folding his arms in front of him, Matt tilted his head. "Hm. Good point. Keith was with the Blade of Marmora for how long?"

"About five months." Shiro told him. "If I hadn't recalled how I escaped, it could have been even longer."

"Maybe using the clone to infiltrate Voltron wasn't her plan?" Matt ventured.

"Maybe." Shiro admitted.

Even if it wasn't, something still didn't sit right with him about it. Why bother extracting the memories? Was it because she simply thought it was easier to manipulate the mind of an empty vessel, and wanted to do away with them? Why not just erase them? Why go through the trouble of creating a clone and giving them Keith's memories, if she wasn't going to use them somehow?

Unless...

Memories.

Something- something about that word was niggling at him now. Frowning, he mulled it over, trying to figure out what it was. Sendak's face flickered to mind, leaving him baffled- before he connected the dots.

Standing up straight, he dropped his arms to his side. "I think... I think I might know where the clone is."

"Uh," Matt blinked, "-you do?"

"I- maybe." Shiro told him. "I'm not sure. Just- just go get Allura. Tell her to meet me down where we kept Sendak."

"...the Galra Commander whose arm Pidge cut off?" Matt asked. "Sure, but why?"

"Because," Shiro said, "-I think the clone knows."

* * *

The pod room was so quiet, he almost thought he'd been wrong.

But then he remembered how light Keith had always been on his feet, even before he'd gotten stealth training from an elite network of Galra spies. It had been a survival skill for him then, and it was a survival skill for him now- just in a totally different context. Even if the clone wasn't Keith, it was still possible he knew a few of his old tricks.

Entirely possible, actually.

But he could be pretty quiet too.

Slowly creeping into the room, he let his eyes adjust. He couldn't see quite as well in the dark as Keith could- in hindsight, he didn't know why he'd never questioned how good Keith's night vision was. Maybe he'd just thought the kid had gone through enough in his life, that he didn't need another adult pointing out something weird about him.

He nearly called out Keith's name, before he stopped himself. That was exactly the kind of thing that had resulted in the clone's earlier panic attack.

It hadn't been the sight of his face that had caused it- it had been what he said. Keith's name, applied to him.

He should have gone with is gut instinct.

He found the clone curled up in a corner of the pod room, like he was trying to hide himself. With a jolt, it reminded him of how he'd found him, face hidden under long, stringy hair. It was matted, badly, which came as no real surprise. He knew from experience that Keith's hair was fine and tangled easily, so it was no surprise it was the same for his clone.

No sooner than had he stepped into the clone's line of vision, did they flinch, drawing further inwards. Out of the corner of his eye, he could just make out Allura's arrival, Coran in tow- but he held up a hand, silently telling her to stay where she was.

She understood, giving him a curt nod. Lingering by the entrance to the pod room, she didn't dare come any further.

Right. So he'd found the clone. Now for the hard part.

First things first- less towering. Crouching down in front of him, he made sure to give the clone space- staying at an arms length from him. Though he'd crammed himself pretty good in the corner, he still somehow managed to inch his body further backwards, like he was still too close for his tastes.

Keeping his voice soft, Shiro did his best to smile. "Hey."

The clone stirred, but didn't look up.

"You know who I am, right?" Shiro asked.

It probably wasn't a question the clone had been expecting, enough to cause him to peek out, one eye surfacing from behind his mass of hair. It was hard to tell in the dim light of the pod room, but while it didn't appear quite as sunken as it had been, there were still visible bags underneath it.

It also didn't quite catch the light just right.

For a minute, he didn't think the clone would say anything, before he finally spoke. "Takashi Shirogane. You're a pilot."

The distance that the clone put in his words was enough to confirm his theory. Nodding his head, Shiro let out a low hum. "You left out the part where I'm the black paladin."

Unexpectedly, or perhaps not so unexpectedly, the clone let out a snort. " _That's_ what bothers you?"

"Just wanted to make sure." Shiro told him. "Do you know where you are?"

Frowning, both of the clone's eyes emerged from behind his mess of bangs. The furrow of his brow was the same one Keith got whenever he was faced with something he didn't quite understand. "The Castle of Lions."

Nodding his head, Shiro let out another hum. "You've been a pod for a full movement. Coran said you were in pretty bad shape."

Narrowing his eyes, the clone tugged at the hem of his sleeves. By now, he was probably noticing the inconsistencies between the memories he'd been given, and how he was acting, and was trying to puzzle it out. Keith's memories didn't _necessarily_ mean that he had Keith's personality, but that was all he had to go on for the moment.

"Can I ask you a question?" Shiro asked.

"You've already asked me two." The clone answered, the dryness of his tone all Keith. "Well, three."

"Can I ask you five?" Shiro asked.

"Including that one?" The clone asked back. His voice was a bit raspy- from disuse, probably. Otherwise, it was a perfect match for Keith's.

"Mm-hm." Shiro merely said.

The clone seemed to frown, studying him with marked caution. Guarded. His facial expressions were a near mirror of Keith's, and not just because they had the same face. "Fine."

"What's your name?"

Jerking his head up, it was clear that it was an action the clone quickly had cause to regret. He tipped over a bit, dizzy, before catching himself, using his hands to stabilize himself. Shiro winced inwardly, half worried that he might just snap his wrists doing it, given how thin they were. He _really_ needed that meal plan Hunk had charted out.

Once steady, the clone stared at him, suspiciously. Eyes searching his face, Shiro made sure to keep it as relaxed as possible. The clone, on the other hand, was tensed, coiled up like a snake- before all at once, he seemed to deflate.

"I don't- I have one, but it's not... it's not _mine_."

Shiro had to fight to keep himself from deflating at the words. Because they sounded so... raspy or not, the clone still had Keith's voice. He'd heard Keith give up before, but he'd never heard him sound so _defeated_.

Because the clone knew. All along, he knew.

That was why Haggar had thrown it away. Because she couldn't use him as a pawn, not when he knew, by some base instinct, that the memories it held weren't their own.

The clone had ceased looking at him. His eyes were closed, in fact. Like he was prepared to accept whatever his confession would bring him, now that it was out in the open. That he had Keith's voice, that he had Keith's face, but he _wasn't_ Keith.

God, Shiro wanted to hug him.

But that would probably be a bad idea, so he decided against it. Another time, maybe. He definitely could use one.

"Do you have anything you want to be called by?"

Blinking, the clone looked up at him, his expression open with confusion. "I'm- don't you get it?"

"You're a clone." Shiro stated plainly. "Haggar created you."

The clone flinched, but didn't look away this time. "Right, so- so you should just take what's in my head and then shoot me out of the nearest airlock or something. Put me back where you found me. Doesn't matter. Point is, I'm not- I _can't_ be who you're looking for."

Oh. He didn't know they had already found Keith. Right, that made sense.

"We're not going to do that." Shiro told him. "Any of that."

Frowning, the clone didn't seem to buy that. "I can't help you find-"

"You don't need to." Shiro cut him off. "I know exactly where Keith is. He's up in the med bay, probably pacing."

The frank admission took the clone by surprise. It was enough to cause him to uncurl himself a bit, looking a little less like a ball and more like a human. Just a depressingly malnourished one. Coran was right, they really did have their work cut out for them.

The clone's stomach, at least, clearly agreed. Opening his mouth to say something, he didn't get the chance, the sound of his own stomach growling cutting him off. Cheeks tinting a deep pink, he ducked his head, obscuring his features behind his bangs.

Shiro just let out a chuckle. "Sounds like you're hungry."

Rising to his feet, he extended his human hand to the clone. "Come on. I think Hunk's cooked up a special menu just for you."

Opening his mouth, the clone just as quickly shut it. Brows knitting together, he stared up at him, clearly puzzled by the fact that he was not getting the reaction that he was expecting to. If that was an act, then it was a damn good one.

Though he hesitated at first, he slowly took his hand. Allowing Shiro to haul him to his feet, the clone stumbled a bit, before finding his footing. He was the same height as Keith had been when he'd been captured, he dimly noted- he got the feeling Lance would be pretty pleased about that.

Right. Lance. He was still outside the ship. They should probably let him back in now.

Glancing down at the prison rags that the clone still wore, Shiro frowned. Now that his eyes had adjusted to the dark, it was pretty obvious that the clone was filthy- probably hadn't had a shower in months.

He still remembered his first shower after being freed from the Galra. Even with the pitiful water pressure he'd gotten in Keith's shack, it still felt like heaven. It had made him feel _human_ , something he hadn't felt like in months.

It struck him with a jolt, then, that the clone had probably never worn anything else in his life but prison rags. That he probably had memories _of_ taking a shower, but had never actually experienced it himself. That was... disturbing, on many levels, but at least they could take the first steps towards correcting it.

"Unless you'd like a chance to clean up first...?" Shiro ventured.

Staring at him blankly, the clone frowned. "Are you telling me I stink."

Shiro didn't drop his gaze. Frankness for frankness. "Yes."

Still looking uncertain, the clone used his free hand to fiddle with the hem of his shirt. Heaving a sigh, Shiro fought the urge to rest a hand on his shoulder, unsure how he would take the gesture.

"Everyone here knows what you are." Shiro stated, choosing to go the frank route. "Nobody is going to hold it against you. Haggar experimented on me too."

The clone didn't flinch, not this time. "She didn't _create_ you."

"Hey, kids can't choose their parents." Shiro merely remarked, giving him a casual shrug.

The clone nearly choked.

"Oh god," they half-whispered, probably not fully aware he was speaking out loud, "-your jokes really _are_ that bad."

* * *

So hot water really was that hot.

His memories told him as much, but they weren't really _his_ memories, so like everything else, he couldn't trust them. The only things he could trust were what he experienced for himself, and that the face in the mirror wasn't his.

He had never met Keith Kogane, but he knew nearly everything about him. Staring at his reflection, he furrowed his brow, watching it play out on a face that belonged to a stranger. His entire being belonged to that stranger- there was nothing he could really call his own. _He_ didn't exist.

Yet the black paladin had asked what _his_ name was.

He didn't have an answer to give him. He'd never given it any thought. All he knew was that he wasn't Keith Kogane, no matter how much the memories in his head tried to tell him otherwise. At first, he honestly thought it was because he was crazy- that maybe they _were_ his memories, and that there was just something wrong with him.

But no. They weren't.

 _He_ hadn't even existed up until a few months ago. He was pretty positive about that. He didn't know how long it had been- time kind of all blurred together. He hadn't dared ask the black paladin- hadn't dared ask him anything, really. He'd just followed behind him, past the Altean princess and her advisor- _Allura_ and _Coran_ , his not-memories informed him- up to the residential decks, where he made good on his promise.

He was just as weird as his not-memories told him.

Especially since they had the _real_ Keith Kogane here, on the ship. The thought gnawed away at him, so he tried not to think about it. He couldn't understand what the black paladin's motivations were, why he was doing any of this.

He'd never been treated like a _person_ before.

At least, not since Haggar had deemed him a failure. What good was he if he didn't believe that he himself was the real Keith? She had no use for a clone with _doubts_. But she couldn't just kill him either, so there he languished, in that cell, for who knew how long.

Now he was free- and that was truly something he couldn't wrap his head around. _Freedom_ was never something he had experienced, although his not-memories instantly supplied him with contradictions. The sensation of desert wind rushing through his hair, the vastness of the open night sky... but none of that was _his_.

So his first taste of it, and he had panicked. _Run_.

He didn't really have a _plan_. He'd been thinking of maybe trying to get the memories out of his head, but when he'd gotten down to the room from his not-memories, he realized he didn't know how to do that. Having exhausted himself, he simply curled up and hide, hoping that no one would find him.

But someone had, and now he was here. Clean, for probably the first time in his life. It felt as good as his not-memories told him it would.

His hair clung to his body, damp. It was still matted and tangled, but he couldn't bring himself to care. If he cut it all off, maybe he'd look a little less like the stranger whose face he was borrowing, but he couldn't bring himself to do that. It had gotten long enough that it proved some measure of difference anyways.

There were bags under his eyes that his not-memories didn't have. His eyes seemed dim, soulless- not a surprise. He was a clone, so he probably didn't have one.

But it still wasn't _his_ face. He just... he didn't know what that would look like. It wasn't like he had any other existence before this. He didn't.

He hadn't been made as a person, just as a tool. And he'd failed to even be _that_. He wasn't useful to anyone. Not that he wanted to be- his not-memories recoiled at the idea of being used by the Galra Empire, and so did he, for that matter. It was one area where they fell into complete agreement.

But now he was here, on the Castle of Lions, being treated like something he was markedly _not_. Given the chance to clean himself, given actual clothes, with the promise of food. It was almost too much for him.

(He didn't know kindness either. It just taunted him from the depths of his not-memories.)

He didn't even know what to do with all these clothes arranged neatly on the bed. There were so many, so many different kinds, that he just gave up on choosing and just grabbed the first ones on the stack- some kind of white and orange tunic and a pair of deep blue leggings. They fit, sort of- he was just thin enough that the tunic kind of hung off of him in places.

He felt... he didn't know. He didn't have a name to put to this emotion. At least, not anything he'd experienced for himself.

Staring at the door, he chewed on his lip. Hovering just in front of it, he hesitantly reached out a hand towards the door panel, before he froze. What if it wouldn't unlock when he touched it? What if he'd been locked in here? What if everything the black paladin had said had been a farce, to get him to trust him, so that they could lock him up again.

Swallowing, he hesitated. Of course it had to be. His not-memories told him just how important the black paladin and Keith Kogane were to each other, and here he was, an interloper wearing the latter's face. Created by the Galra. By _Haggar_.

That anyone would trust him, much less _want_ him was too good to be true.

Drawing in a long breath, he grit his teeth, shoving his hand against the door panel. Fully expecting it to flash red, he instead found himself freezing, as it flashed green, opening up to reveal the hallway, lined with the too bright lights of the castle-ship. Shutting his eyes on instinct, he sucked in a breath, before daring to peek.

The door really was open.

Shifting on his feet, he frowned, brows furrowing. Peeking out, he nearly leapt out of his skin as his eyes locked almost instantly with those of another person's- the blue paladin, _Lance_ , his not-memories supplied.

At least he looked just as surprised by him. As seconds ticked by, all he did was stare at him, open-mouthed.

Before he shut it, lips forming instead into a scowl. Instantly, he felt himself wince, bracing himself for whatever was about to happen, his not-memories supplying him with unpleasant scenarios from a past that wasn't his own.

"Did you even _try_ to dry your hair?"

Blinking, he looked up, staring in puzzlement at the blue paladin. His hair? Reaching up a hand, he touched it, the damp lock dripping water onto his hand. "Does... does it matter?"

Squinting at him, the blue paladin crinkled his nose in disgust. "Uh, yeah? Your hair's already enough of a mess as it is, you should _at least_ take the time to towel dry it."

Staring blankly at him, he dropped his hand. "It's just hair. It'll dry on its own."

Letting out an indignant squawk, Lance made a face. "Un-uh, not gonna have that. Come on."

Without another word, Lance spun him around, marching him back into the room. If it weren't for the fact that he was so stunned, he probably would have recoiled at the touch, but as it was, he didn't have the time to. Watching with a frown as Lance marched into the bathroom, making another noise of disgust as he picked up the towel he'd left on the ground, he promptly marched back out.

"And this!" Holding up the towel, Lance glowered at him. "What were you, raised in a barn!?"

Ducking his head, he bit his lip, not knowing what to say to that. He hadn't been _raised_ anywhere. He just... he just _was_.

To his credit, Lance seemed to realize his mistake as soon as he said it. "I- sorry man, I didn't mean that. Just- let's just dry your hair and go see Hunk in the kitchen, okay?"

He tried not to dwell on the surreal fact that someone was actually bothering to _apologize_ to him. It didn't feel like he should be worth the trouble. "I can do it myself."

Lifting his brows, Lance glanced down at him. "Yeah?"

Glancing up at him, his lips tightened in a frown. "I'm not helpless."

Lance looked vaguely unconvinced, but nevertheless, tossed the towel towards him. Catching it, he stared at him for a long moment, before he dried off his hair as much as he could, hoping it would be enough to satisfy him. His not-memories told him as much, but he guessed the blue paladin really was a stickler about hair.

"There," he looked up at him, "-better?"

"Well, it's not dripping wet, at least." Lance observed. "So yeah, better."

Chucking the towel on the bed, ignoring Lance's squawk of protest, he shifted on his feet. This was easier for him to deal with than the black paladin's kindness, which was... baffling, still. He didn't know why they seemed to trust him, not when he'd been made as a tool to be used against them.

They all had to know it. So why were they just... ignoring it?

Lance just looked at him oddly, visibly scanning his face. Ducking his head again, he hid it behind his bangs, knowing just what he saw when he looked at it. "Right, let's just... let's just get you to Hunk."

Slowly nodding, he fell into step behind him, trying to pretend he couldn't hear what Lance was muttering underneath his breath. That this was weird- that _he_ was weird. It wasn't- he wasn't wrong, he knew that, but it still bothered him.

He felt like it shouldn't. He was already getting way more than he could have asked for. Being treated like a person for the first time in his (admittedly short) life? It was so overwhelming, that all he could do was wait for it to end.

(His not-memories told him these things always ended. He believed them.)

He caught the scent of food long before they entered the kitchen. Dimly, it occurred to him that he'd never eaten anything other than the gruel they fed prisoners- and not much of it, at that. Half of his borrowed blood came from the Galra, making him a halfbreed- and even worse, he was a _clone_.

Suffice to say, they hadn't exactly thought much of him.

He didn't dare breech the topic. If _he_ was half-Galra, it could only mean that so was the real Keith Kogane. He wasn't so bitter that he would try to ruin things for him by revealing that, even if he couldn't figure out just what his feelings were towards the one whose face he shared.

His not-memories told him that the yellow paladin- _Hunk_ \- was a great cook. His stomach was telling him he was starving.

He trusted both of them.

"Hunk, my buddy, my good man," Lance begun, "-your guest of honor is here."

He bristled a little at the flippant term, unsure if Lance was making fun of him or not. He was pretty sure his brain was more or less hardwired the same way Keith's was, so he guess he had him to blame for that.

Hunk, on the other hand, was a lot more obvious.

Beaming, the yellow paladin turned on his heel, face lighting up at the sight of him. If he didn't know what to make of being treated with kindness, or being fussed over, then he definitely didn't know what to make of the idea that someone could actually be _happy_ to see him.

"Oh, hey!" He almost seemed to radiate sunlight, and he had to blink, remind himself that the yellow paladin was not, in fact, glowing. "Take a seat, I'm almost done heating it up."

Frowning, he glanced towards the row of chairs with hesitation. Gaze flickering over towards Lance, he caught it, just shrugging his shoulders. Uncertain what to do with that, he simply opted for taking the offered chair.

"So Coran says the healing pod should have essentially rebooted your system," Hunk began, "-but I still thought we should start you off with something light."

What was set down in front of him was a bowl of... soup, he thought. The broth was clear, and there were some kind of noodles in it, but it didn't have any kind of heavy scent. Whatever it was, it was food, and he was starving.

All he wanted to do was to dig in, but seeing his rush, Hunk reached out a hand to stop him. There was no malevolence in the action, so it just made him grumble, glowering up at the yellow paladin.

"Whoa, hey," Hunk said, "-I get it, you're hungry, but if you eat that fast, you'll make yourself sick."

Pursing his lips, he frowned, but slowly nodded his head. He was probably right. Fighting against the urge to do otherwise, he took slow, measured sips of the soup. It was better than anything he'd ever tasted, which wasn't exactly saying much.

He tried to pretend he didn't notice the way Lance and Hunk were watching him as he ate. He couldn't blame them. He was wearing the face of their fellow paladin, but wasn't. If they hadn't already found the real one, he didn't know if they'd even believe him, or if they'd just think he was crazy, that his imprisonment had messed with his head.

It had, but not like that.

Pity, he decided. That was why they were treating him like this. They were taking pity on him. It was finally an answer that made some sense. Eventually, their pity would run out, and he'd probably be dumped somewhere, but he at least didn't think they'd take away his freedom now that they had given it to him.

He hoped not.

He couldn't even finish the soup. He was still hungry, but if he ate any more, he got the feeling it'd just come back up. Pushing the half-finished bowl away, he hoped that Hunk didn't take it the wrong way. They were being so nice to him, even if it was out of pity, that he didn't want to seem like he didn't appreciate it.

He did.

Even if it was so much more than he deserved.

"That's all?" Hunk asked.

Nodding his head, he didn't dare look up at him.

Letting out a low hum, Hunk just shrugged. "You're the one who knows your stomach best. If you get hungry again, there's more where that came from."

"I- thanks." He told him. "You didn't- you don't need to do this for me."

Hunk frowned, exchanging a glance with Lance, before looking back at him. "I mean... we kind of do? We couldn't just leave you there."

"Yeah," Lance chimed in, "-you know, paladin code and all."

 _"The Paladin Code states we help_ _ **all**_ _those in need."_

Gritting his teeth against the unbidden not-memory, he tried to force back the sound of the Altean princess' voice. She had barely spoken with him, but he wondered how she felt, having a product of the Galra Empire on her ship. It felt like he was violating something, knowing how much she had lost to them.

"Yeah," not looking up at them, he didn't dare to, "-I know."

He could sense them looking at each other, a heavy tension in the air, like neither of them quite knew what to say to that. Chewing on his lip, he felt the sudden urge to retreat, but he wasn't sure how they'd take it, so he just stayed rooted to his chair. He knew he'd already made a bad impression by choosing to run away, he didn't want to risk making things worse.

"So... you have Keith's memories, huh?" Lance ventured the question.

Still not looking up, he wordlessly nodded his head.

"Huh." Lance frowned. "So- did he like, really not remember me from the Garrison? You know, back when we rescued Shiro together?"

Now he did look up, brows knitting together in a frown. "Why don't you just ask him?"

Lance blinked at the question, exchanging a look with Hunk. Staring at them with confusion, he felt something cold grip his heart, wondering if he'd said something wrong.

"He can't."

Jerking his head back, he regretted it, having to grip the edge of the table to keep himself from tipping over. He wasn't used to quick movements.

"Uh, Pidge?" He could almost hear the frown in Hunk's voice. "Maybe we shouldn't...?"

Pidge. The green paladin, his not-memories supplied.

"Lying to him isn't going to help." She said. "I thought that's what we agreed on."

"Well yeah, but... he like, just woke up." Hunk told her. "Maybe we should, you know... give him a bit more time before we drop that bombshell on him?"

"But you _will_ grill him about Keith's memories." Pidge observed, arching a brow.

"In my defense, that was Lance." Hunk said.

"Gee, thanks buddy." Lance said dryly.

Studying Pidge's face, he wondered what she meant. Shiro hadn't made it sound like he was incapacitated, so either he was lying, or...

Oh.

It dawned on him them, in a way it hadn't before. He had Keith's memories. And if he had them, then that meant... that meant that Keith _didn't_.

"I can- I can give them back." He blurted out, unable to stop himself. "I can- I don't- god, I don't even _want_ them."

He didn't. He really didn't. All they did was taunt him. Remind him of what he wasn't, what he couldn't be. As far as he was concerned, he'd be better off without them.

To her credit, Pidge only blinked. "I mean... it's not that simple. Allura's the only one who can, and she doesn't know how."

Oh. He felt something deflate at those words. So it _wasn't_ pity, then. They were just keeping him around because they didn't know how to get what they wanted from him. Yeah, that... that made a lot more sense, he thought. He was just mistaking basic decency for kindness, that was all.

He'd never exactly experienced either, so he didn't exactly have a good frame of reference for it. His not-memories were of no help. There weren't any feelings to go with them, just vague impressions at best.

Right. Of course. It made sense- there was no way the paladins of Voltron would be cruel. But it didn't mean any of them actually _wanted_ him here. They just needed him, that was all. He shouldn't have gotten his hopes up.

"So uh," Hunk piped up again, "-do you have anything you want to be called?"

Blinking at the question, he stared at Hunk. Shiro had asked the same thing of him. He didn't have an answer then, and he didn't have an answer now. He had a prisoner number, one that he could rattle off with ease, but nothing close to a _name_.

He didn't know why they kept asking. Maybe it was just inconvenient not to have something to call him by.

"I mean, we've been calling you _x_ , but that's not exactly like, a real name." Lance frowned, rubbing the back of his neck.

It definitely wasn't a name, but it was probably all he was worth. It was still better than a name that wasn't his. "That's fine. X is fine."

The three paladins exchanged uncertain glances, which he tried to ignore. Opening his mouth to say something, Hunk caught Pidge's eye, who shook her head. Watching them, he tried to pretend for a moment that his not-memories were his, that he truly was the real Keith Kogane- and regretted it, quickly.

He didn't belong here.

* * *

"He's asleep."

Glancing up at Pidge, Shiro gave her a grateful smile. "How'd he seem?"

"He let us call him x." Pidge told him. "So not great."

Smile faltering, Shiro could only sigh. Yeah, he'd kind of been expecting that. The worst case scenario was that the clone had Keith's issues on top of his own, which no doubt about it, would result in a huge mess.

"Where's Keith?" Pidge asked, glancing around the med bay. "Thought he'd be here."

"Training deck." Shiro reported. "Think he needed to work out some nerves."

Giving him an understanding hum, Pidge nodded her head. "So... what's the plan?"

"He stays here." Shiro told him. "We let him go at his own pace, get used to life around here. To us. I want to make sure that he knows he can trust us."

He had talked it over with Allura. She had been distressed to learn that the clone already knew what he was, and had quickly agreed to lend him a room. Just as a precaution, the clone would be locked out of certain areas of the ship, but honestly, it didn't seem like this was a trap.

He got the feeling that Allura was feeling a certain level of responsibility for all this. That because she was Altean, and because Haggar was Altean, it was on her shoulders to fix this. But he didn't think there was a fix for this- at least, not some kind of magical fix, bestowed upon her by the powers of Altean alchemy.

The only way to fix this was to do right by the clone. And by Keith.

It wouldn't be easy, but then again, when was anything ever easy?

On top of all that, they _still_ had the matter of Zarkon- and Lotor, him too. They couldn't just put a halt to fighting the Galra Empire just to deal with an existential crisis. But at the very least, he could try and make sure that there was always someone around on the Castle of Lions, just in case the clone needed someone to talk to.

 _If_ he was willing to talk. If his personality was as much like Keith's as he thought it was, that might prove to be tricky.

One step at a time, he reminded himself. He'd done this before. He could do it again.

He hoped.


	16. extra: birthday part

Keith's birthday is tomorrow/today (depending on when this posts), so it's time for a special fic to celebrate! I've always had a birthday fic planned for this series ever since I first started it, but the story advanced at a quicker pace than I expected! And yet, at the same time, not quite so fast enough that I felt comfortable including the clone in this chapter- so, that said, this is set between "alien side" and "regris side", just in the early fringes of season four, before the discovery of the clone, Regris' near death experience, and finding Matt.

That said, please enjoy this, essentially bonus chapter! Next time I update this, we'll be back to the main storyline!

* * *

 **abyss of memory**

 **birthday part**

* * *

The sound of something popping filled his ears as soon as he stepped out of the Marmoran transport pod. He felt himself bristle, standing up straight, tail on full alert- before he realized that this was no surprise assault, that the Castle hadn't been taken over while he was away.

No, it was just the paladins. Each holding some kind of strange cone-shaped device, presumably the source of the noise- and likely, the colored paper wafting about the red lion's hangar.

Kethe realized he had no idea what was going on. None at all.

When he had left on his mission, things had been normal. He'd just needed to extract some information. They were chasing a new strain of quintessence, one that had Kolivan puzzled. Other than that it was likely linked to Lotor, they knew next to nothing about it- beyond its basic properties, which were off the charts.

During his absence, something had clearly changed.

It wasn't that no one ever came to greet him when he came back from Blade missions- but it usually wasn't _all_ of them. Even Allura was there, though she hung a bit back, as if she didn't want to risk spoiling the mood. Coran was just busy trying to brush colored paper off his face- apparently he had fired the odd little device in the wrong direction, towards him.

"Uh," he began, knowing just how uncertain he sounded, "-did I miss something?"

His clueless reaction to what was probably meant to be a cheerful display of some type sobered the mood, making it feel a bit anxious. Like they had gotten ahead of themselves, and maybe hadn't fully thought things through.

Shiro's the one to step forward first.

"Pidge was doing some calculations while you were gone." He began. "I'm sure you know we keep time a bit differently on Earth than you do out in space."

Kethe nodded, knowing instantly what he meant. He had grasped the concept of things like _hours_ and _months_ easily enough, like it was second nature to him. Probably because it was, but it still took him by surprise given how little he actually remembered of Earth.

Which was to say, nothing at all.

"I figured out a way to translate _space_ time," Pidge hurriedly jumped in with an explanation of her own, "-to _Earth_ time. You know, figuring out how long we've been out here, what month it is back on Earth- I even was able to narrow it down to the day, more or less."

"Oh," he perked up at that, tail swishing behind him, betraying his eagerness, "-is it some kind of holiday?"

He knew this one! Lance and Hunk had explained it to him! There was New Year's, Halloween, Valentine's, and a bunch of others... including the strange holiday named _Christmas_ , where they eagerly anticipated a large red man breaking into their homes and stealing their sweets and dairy products in exchange for leaving them gifts.

He couldn't recall any that involved surprising people with colored bits of paper, but maybe they hadn't told him about them all.

"I guess you could say that." Shiro told him. "It's your birthday, Keith."

Blinking, Keith stared at him for a long moment. "My what?"

"You know, your birthday." Hunk said. "The day you were born?"

"Aw man, don't tell me we have to teach you about birthdays too." Lance frowned.

"I know what a birthday is." Kethe said quickly, choosing to ignore the fact that he hadn't, not until Hunk had told him. It should have been kind of obvious- it was literally in the name, but humans could come up with strange names for things, so he couldn't be sure.

"I just don't understand why it would involve... what are these anyways?" He asked, plucking Shiro's straight from his hands, peering curiously into it.

"It's a party popper!" Pidge readily supplied, handing him her own, which he took with just as much interest. "Lance and I made them."

Frowning, Kethe rolled them both over in his hands, momentarily distracted by the presence of a new thing. He filed them away under his growing list of strange Earth objects of which he saw no purpose for- and then wordlessly, tucked the two used party poppers into his belt.

"Okay, I guess you're keeping them." Pidge frowned.

"You still didn't answer my question." Kethe noted.

"I think I can answer that, Number Four!" Coran piped up. "It seems that on Earth, you humans celebrate your birthdays with various festivities! Why, we used to do something rather like it back on Altea, except it's more for young children, there."

Bristling a little at that, Kethe frowned. "I'm not a child."

He already got mistaken for one enough by Blades who didn't know him, or by those who weren't otherwise familiar with him- he didn't want to think that the paladins had been thinking that the whole time too. Especially when they should know better- sure, maybe he hadn't gotten the specifics of his exact age yet, but he knew he was older than Lance and Hunk at least, and they were both seventeen.

"No," Shiro said, "-but we tend to celebrate birthdays for a lot longer on Earth than they did on Altea."

His tail twitching in thought, Kethe looked up at Shiro. It was a lot of information to take in- both this strange tradition of _birthdays_ , and the fact that it was apparently _his_.

"We were planning to celebrate," Shiro continued, "-but we'll understand if you don't want to."

Tilting his head, Kethe's gaze flickered towards the other paladins. He could do it without them picking up on the fact that he was looking at them- a trick that didn't work on Allura and Coran. True to that, the princess caught his eye, merely giving him a small smile before looking away.

He quickly focused back on the paladins. They looked... excited, and Kethe suddenly felt bad. Maybe celebrating his birthday was a way for them to feel a little more connected to Earth- and since learning that it had somehow been _his_ fault that they had all ended up in space to begin with, he couldn't help but feel guilty.

Maybe... maybe he should just let them.

After all, how bad could it be? He didn't know anything about birthdays either, not really, so maybe he could use this as a chance to learn a bit more about Earth's culture.

His _own_ culture.

Tail drooping, he dropped his gaze. He still couldn't fully wrap his head around that- Galran culture felt like it was more his own than anything the paladins ever talked about. But it had felt like that in the beginning when he had first started to learn about the Galra too, so maybe all he really needed was time.

Looking up, Kethe shook his head. "It's fine. I don't mind."

"Great!" Lance piped up. "Why don't you get changed out of that Blade armor, and meet us in the lounge in like, oh say, half a varga?"

"Half a varga is good." Hunk said.

"Why?" Kethe blinked. "What's in the lounge?"

"Oh, you'll see." Lance told him, waggling his brow in a way that very briefly made Kethe want to just rip it off. But he wouldn't do that. Lance was his comrade in arms, even if he did sometimes do things that annoyed him.

"It's meant to be a surprise." Shiro told him.

"Is... are surprises part of birthdays?" Kethe asked, brow furrowing.

"You could say that." Pidge told him.

Gaze flickering down towards her, Kethe frowned. She didn't... _look_ particularly impish, not right now. Pidge and surprises usually spelled trouble- he'd learned that very quickly.

"Don't worry," Shiro was quick to assure him, "-I had them run everything by me first."

He perked up at that, finding some small sense of relief in it. Shiro had a very level head- that was one of the first things he had learned about the black paladin. He could understand why the black lion had chosen him.

"I guess I better go change then." Kethe remarked, giving him a weak smile. He still didn't know about this _birthday_ thing, but what was the harm?

He didn't fool himself into thinking that they were doing this specifically for him, though. He'd... sort of started to understand that maybe the paladins didn't hate him, and in fact, maybe they actually _liked_ him- but he still wasn't fully convinced that who they liked was _him_ \- and not just who he used to be.

But he was getting there. His feelings of being some kind of fraud didn't help, and even with Pidge's reassurances that they just wanted him to be himself, the words still somehow felt hollow. Maybe it was just his own anxiety, eating away at him- with his past uncertain as it was, he couldn't help but question everything, including the things he had been told by those he should trust.

It wasn't like _they_ knew the full story either.

And honestly? To some extent, he was still learning who _himself_ even was.

Excusing himself, Kethe made his way to his quarters. It had become easier to think of them as such- not like when he had first arrived, and felt like he was staying in the room of a phantom. One that haunted everything he did, that he couldn't escape.

He quickly changed out of his Blade armor and into his casual wear- maybe a bit _too_ quickly. Frowning, he glanced over at the clock, realizing that not even ten doboshes had gone by yet. There was no way they would be ready in the lounge yet.

And yet... temptation won out.

He'd admit it- he was curious about what this so-called surprise waiting for him was. He knew next to nothing about birthdays, but Coran had made it sound like it was some big celebration. But the whole thing also kind of sounded terribly last minute- so he didn't think they could have prepared anything huge in the handful of days he'd been gone.

Leaving his quarters, Kethe made his way down the hall, keeping his footsteps quiet. His ears twitched, picking up on the faint sound of the paladin's voices. Drawing a bit closer, he started to be able to make out what they were saying.

"No, no, I think it needs to be a little more to the left."

"Hunk," he could almost hear the strain in Lance's voice, "-buddy, I don't think it matters."

"Uh, of course it matters?" He could _definitely_ hear the frown in Hunk's voice. "This is basically like, Keith's first birthday. I want to make it perfect."

"Doing a bit of spying?"

Nearly jumping out of his skin, Kethe pivoted on his heel, reaching for his knife on instinct- only to relax once he realized it was just Coran. The Altean man didn't look the slightest bit perturbed by almost having a knife drawn on him, merely twirling his mustache.

"Just curious." Kethe admitted.

"Can't say I blame you." Coran noted. "They've been keeping Allura and I in the dark just as well."

Arching a brow at that, Kethe's tail flicked behind him. "How long have they been doing all this?"

"Oh, non-stop since yesterday." Coran noted. "Ever since they found out from Shiro that today is supposedly your birthday."

"Supposedly?" Kethe asked.

"You know, give or take a few quintants for time dilation and all that." Coran said.

Oh. That made sense, yeah.

"Now, it's Number One's birthday that's quite interesting." Coran provided. "Apparently its on a day that only exists once every four of your Earth years. Isn't that peculiar?"

"That's... weird, yeah." Kethe admitted. "How do they...?"

"Apparently they do it on the day before, or so I was told." Coran explained.

Making a low hum, Kethe's tail flicked. Turning back in the direction of the lounge, his ears twitched, not missing Lance's deep breath of relief at Hunk having finally settled on a location for... well, whatever it was that was giving them so much trouble.

"I guess they must really miss Earth." Kethe absently remarked.

Back turned, he didn't get to see Coran's assessing gaze, nor his contemplative tug of his mustache. "Oh yes, that's part of it, I suppose."

Lifting his head, Kethe peered back towards him. "What's the other part?"

"You, my boy." Coran stated, as if it were the most simple, obvious thing in the world and not an idea that he was still having difficultly wrapping his head around. "The other part is you."

Frowning, Kethe furrowed his brow. He didn't know what to make of that.

As if sensing that, Coran pat his shoulder. "Well now, I'd say they should be about finished in there. What's say we go see what it is that they've done?"

Slowly nodding his head, Kethe let Coran take the lead. He trailed behind him, suddenly feeling out of place and apprehensive. What Coran said should have been reassuring, but somehow, it only managed to make his skin crawl, as if it felt too tight.

His birthday.

Maybe if he had his memories, it would have some meaning to him, but as it was, it didn't. Celebrating them wasn't part of the Galra tradition, though he'd been taught that once, long ago, there had been a coming of age ceremony held when a Galran child reached adulthood. Since Zarkon's second reign, such practices had vanished- any celebrations had, really.

Even military victories were simply expected, and weren't celebrated. There was no room for joy in the Galra Empire.

It was a thought that made him shudder. None of them really knew what Haggar's plans for him had been, just that they probably weren't pretty. If Ulaz hadn't saved him, if he hadn't tried to escape when he did...

...he couldn't help but wonder if he'd be the enemy. Of not just the paladins, but of the Blade of Marmora as well.

He didn't like the implications of that, so he pushed the thought aside.

But it was enough to make him hesitate outside of the lounge. He froze, suddenly unable to take a single step forward. For a moment, all he could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat, heavy in his chest. Placing his hand over it, he couldn't shake the sudden, overwhelming feeling that he shouldn't be here.

Like a phantom come to haunt him.

And then he felt a steady pair of hands on his arms, rough and just a tad on the calloused side. "Keith, hey buddy, you made it!" And then, as if sensing something was wrong, "-you okay?"

Blinking, Kethe looked up, meeting Hunk's eyes. Just as sudden as it had come, the feeling of not belonging slipped away, the phantom with it. He felt himself breathe, air filling his chest, and slowly, he nodded his head.

"Yeah," he said, "-just spaced out a bit."

Frowning, Hunk looked at him with concern. "You sure you're okay? Because we can totally do this some other time if you're still tired from your mission."

Shaking his head, Kethe managed a weak smile. "I'm fine, Hunk. It wasn't that hard."

It really hadn't been, even if he'd nearly been caught by a sentry. Thankfully, he'd been able to take it out before it could raise any alarms, and they had been able to get out with the info without any issue.

It had been an extremely close call, though- one wrong step, and they might have needed to make a hard out. But that wasn't something the paladins needed to know. Not when it hadn't come to that.

Blade work was fundamentally different from his work as a paladin. It wasn't necessarily more dangerous- but Blade work still somehow carried far more risk. He couldn't explain it.

Hunk looked a little unconvinced, but he seemed to accept what he was told. "Well, we're all ready for you. If you know, you're ready."

Taking in a long breath, Kethe gave him a curt nod of his head. "I'm ready."

He had no idea what he was ready for- again, he didn't know the first thing about birthdays. But if they were anything like any of the other holidays that Hunk and Lance had taught him about, he was willing to bet that they involved food.

Food culture, it seemed, was massively important to humans.

It wasn't to the Galra. At least- not anymore. Now it was all just rations and food goo, though the Blades had tried to preserve as much lost Galran culture as they could. Still, cooking was a skill, and few Blades actually _had_ that skill- and recipes were meaningless if one didn't actually know how to make them. Maybe that was why he so often found himself in the kitchen with Hunk.

He could, in fact, smell something sweet. Baked goods, some distant part of his brain supplied. It tugged at something, deep in his mind. Whatever it was, it didn't stay long enough for him to get a solid grip on it, slipping away before he even so much as got a sensation as to what it could have been.

But he was used to that.

"In that case, come on in!" Hunk beamed, lightly guiding him. He allowed him to, only briefly surprised to find that the paladins and the Alteans alike were all waiting for him. "Hey everybody, here's the birthday boy!"

Cracking a smile, Shiro approached him. "Glad you could make it."

"I don't exactly have anywhere else to be." Kethe answered, feeling a little dumb.

Arching his brows, Shiro's grin grew. "Fair enough."

Peeking out from behind Shiro, Kethe tilted his head, taking notice of some strange device set up in the back of the lounge. Pidge's laptop was hooked up to it, and she caught his eye as he looked her way, briefly flashing him a quick grin, before she dived back into whatever it was she was doing.

Catching his gaze, Shiro idly ruffled his hair. "Come on. Why don't you have a seat?"

Touching his hair where Shiro had mussed it up, Kethe wondered at the absent gesture. Still, he found himself making his way fully into the lounge, stepping into the ring of couches that took up most of the center of the room.

Lance, in true Lance fashion, gave him the most overblown bow he could manage. "Your seat of honor."

Knitting his brows together, Kethe stared at him for a few ticks longer than what was probably comfortable for the blue paladin, before sitting where he had indicated. He'd placed him into the dead center of the room, right next to the princess.

"So... any chance you know what this all is?" Kethe asked her.

"I have been here while they were setting it all up." Allura admitted. "I rather think you will enjoy it."

Tilting his head, his tail flicked behind him, growing more and more curious. His nose twitched, leading his vision down towards a table that definitely hadn't been there when he'd left- one that seemed almost laden with food, including the sweet smell that he had picked up on earlier.

He recognized only a few of them, but others, he did not. It all served to remind him that he hadn't eaten since the mission briefing with Kolivan, and in turn, his stomach growled.

"You know," Lance observed, "-I'm no Galra expert, but I'm pretty sure that means you're hungry."

Glowering at him, Lance just took it in stride, ignoring him in place of looking towards Pidge. "So, we got time to get a bite to eat? Maybe cut some cake?"

Barely even looking up, Pidge just hummed. "It should take me another half varga to finish setting up the program."

"I'll take that as a yes." Lance said. "Too bad we couldn't find any space candles."

Kethe blinked. "Candles?"

Rolling his eyes, Lance crinkled his nose. "Please tell me you know what candles are."

"I know what candles are." Kethe frowned. "I just don't see how they would be relevant."

"You're supposed to put them on the cake." Pidge absently supplied.

"Yeah, you blow them out and make a wish!" Lance told him. "The highlight of any birthday party, if you ask me."

Make a wish? Tilting his head, Kethe frowned. He was familiar with the concept, but it sounded so _whimsical_ \- was that really something humans did on their birthdays?

Also, what the heck was a _cake_?

"I still don't see how you'd be able to fit nineteen candles onto a cake of this size." Coran remarked, giving him the answer, whether he knew it or not. "To get them all on, you'd need a cake at least twice this size, if not thrice."

This _cake_ was apparently what was giving off that sweet scent. It was a deep red color, that reminded him of the red lion, and he wondered if it was on purpose.

"You don't use full size candles, Coran." Lance said. "They're like, really small candles. Or they just take the shape of numbers, and you use those."

"Small candles?" Allura frowned. "But then, how do they light your way when you do not have any power?"

"You don't- look, you don't use them for that. They're just for cakes." Lance said.

"Why would you make candles just for cakes?" Kethe asked.

"Because it's a birthday tradition!" Lance said, throwing up his hands, clearly frustrated. "Look, are we going to sit here asking twenty questions, or are we going to enjoy some cake?"

Frowning, Kethe tilted his head. "I guess we can have the cake, then."

"Thank you." Lance said. "Hunk, the honors, if you would?"

Kethe watched with mild interest as Hunk cut into the cake, dividing it up into equal pieces. Scooping them all onto plates, he distributed them to everyone, even passing a plate to Pidge, who accepted it with one hand, still using her other to continue her coding.

"I went simple, this being the first cake I've baked while in space." Hunk stated. "I found these beans on Puig that almost match the flavor of vanilla exactly, so I went with just your classic vanilla cake, with some space buttercream icing."

"And this is a traditional Earth birthday food?" Allura asked.

"Well, I mean, you can _technically_ have cake whenever you want, but yeah, generally on birthdays, there's a cake." Hunk told her.

"Fascinating." Coran mused. "You know, my great aunt, bless her heart, would have had a fit if you made any of our traditional birthday dishes on a day that wasn't a birthday. She was a real stickler for that sort of thing!"

"I'm guessing Altean birthdays were a little more formal than Earth birthdays, then." Shiro remarked, already taking a bite out of his own cake. "Hunk, this is delicious!"

"Aw shucks," Hunk blushed, "-you're making me blush."

Wondering why Hunk was staring the obvious, Kethe absently took a bit of his. Tail perking up, his eyes went wide, taking another bite before he could stop himself. Back on base, sweets weren't exactly something that were ever on the menu- his only prior exposure to them were the cookies that Hunk had made a short while back.

He'd called them his _revenge cookies_ , for some reason. He hadn't asked.

Before he knew it, he'd finished his whole slice.

"Huh," Hunk beamed, "-guess you liked it."

"Keith's always had a bit of a sweet tooth." Shiro absently remarked.

And then promptly winced. "I- sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine." Kethe cut him off. "Apparently that's still true."

He knew he'd flinched, but he meant it. That... wasn't bad. And he'd been the one who told Shiro he was okay with talking about the little things. He wasn't about to rein back on that, not without telling anyone, at least.

He could deal with the little things.

Probably.

"Huh," Lance frowned, "-from the way he guzzles his space coffee, I wouldn't have pictured it."

"Do we really have to keep putting space in front of everything?" Pidge piped up. "I mean, we get it. We're in space. It doesn't have to be _space_ coffee, it can just be regular coffee."

"Yeah, but that's no fun." Lance said.

"I'm just saying-"

"Now, now, let's not argue over who calls things what." Shiro cut in. "Pidge, how's it going?"

"Just about ready." She remarked. "Provided this Altean projector Coran dug out actually _works_."

"I'll have you know I checked it very thoroughly." Coran assured her. "Pop-Pop wasn't one to make things that broke easily."

"Well, let's hope not, or this whole birthday present will just be a total bust." Lance remarked.

Perking up, Kethe's tail twitched. "Present?"

"Yeah, a present." Lance said. "You get those on your birthday."

Narrowing his eyes, Kethe frowned. "Was the red man here?"

Lance stared at him blankly. "The red man."

"I think he means Santa Claus." Pidge supplied. "No, he wasn't here. This is just a little something we put together ourselves."

He didn't know how he felt about getting a _present_ \- the part of him that still couldn't manage to clear the hurdle of his own imposter syndrome readily informed him that he probably didn't deserve it. But he fought it back, determined to not let his own self doubts get in the way of everyone's good time.

Including his own.

This was... this was actually kind of fun, he thought.

"Okay," Pidge beamed, "-I think I just about got it. Hunk, think you can start up the projector?"

"Not a problem." Hunk said, mounting the couch and quickly making his way towards where Pidge sat. Glancing behind him, Kethe watched with unmasked curiosity as he powered on the Altean projector. "Lance, think you can hit the lights?"

"Can do, buddy." Lance said, doing just that.

Lit by the projector, the wall directly across them was flooded with white. Someone had closed the doors to the lounge- he couldn't help but wonder when, since he hadn't noticed at all. Resting his hands in front of him, nestled in between his legs, Kethe leaned forward, tip of his tail waving in anticipation, wondering what they had planned.

The pure white image changed, taking on a sandy color. Vaguely, he made out the sound of Hunk muttering under his breath, before the image came into focus.

It was a desert.

Perking up, Kethe lifted his head. He didn't know why, but the image stirred something inside of him. It was just a simple desert view, nothing special.

"This," Pidge began, "-is Earth."

The words took awhile to sink into him.

Earth.

This was- this was _Earth_. His home planet, where he'd been born. Raised.

The place he didn't remember anymore.

It didn't stop at the desert image. Kethe watched as Pidge and Hunk cycled through a bunch of different photographs, each displaying a new kind of scenery. Forests, flower fields, city spaces- a photo of the beach that Lance had whined about being cropped out of.

They were wonderful, glimpses of a world he didn't know, but none of them stirred his heart like the first one had.

Home.

Lifting his head, he didn't know why the thought had struck him so suddenly. Placing a hand over his chest, Kethe felt the sting of something painful- yet, strangely, he didn't hate it.

"Keith," Allura breathed, "-you're crying."

Blinking, Kethe stared at her. Slowly lifting a hand, he realized that she was right- the fur near his eyes was damp. Ah, right- he had tear ducts, unlike most Galra. He'd nearly forgotten.

Which still didn't explain why they were expelling fluids _now_.

"Whoa, Keith, you okay?" Hunk asked, concern evident in his voice.

"I'm fine." He said, a little too quickly. "I'm just- I need some air."

Getting up, he left the room abruptly. He knew he was ruining the mood, but he just needed some space, some time to sort his thoughts.

To figure out what this strange sensation in his chest was.

* * *

"I had a feeling I'd find you here."

Keith stirred a bit at his words, the tip of his tail swishing against the ground. He could barely make out his form, tucked behind one of the red lion's massive paws, but it was hard to miss the clump of purple and black that made up the red paladin.

True to form, he'd changed back into his Blade armor. He'd done the same thing when they had returned from the alternate reality- retreated from everyone else, into what was familiar. Only this time, he wore his jacket over his armor, claws digging into the fabric.

He'd given him some time before he'd gone to find him. It had taken awhile to calm everyone down back in the lounge anyways- Hunk was frantic, worried that they had made some kind of mistake. And well... he couldn't deny he was a bit worried that they had, but he didn't think it was to the extent that Keith wouldn't forgive them.

"I didn't mean-" Keith began, his voice cracking, "-I didn't mean to leave like that. I just-"

"You don't need to apologize, Keith." Shiro assured him.

Keith didn't lift his head, still buried in his knees. His arms were tucked in the space between them and his chest, tail curled around his feet. "I ruined the mood."

Heaving a slight sigh, Shiro gave him a considering look. Sometimes he wasn't sure what to do when Keith got like this- he hadn't quite perfected how to deal with his low moods just yet. Even back on Earth, before the Galra, before his memory loss, learning how to deal with Keith at his lowest had taken time.

But he'd learned.

"Can I sit here?" Shiro asked.

For a long moment, Keith didn't say anything. Then slowly, he nodded his head.

Taking that as a yes, Shiro carefully sat down next to him. Keith's tail flicked, darting out of the way as if he were afraid he'd sit on it.

(He'd done it once, by accident. He'd never seen Keith look so _betrayed_ before.)

"You didn't ruin the mood, Keith." Shiro told him. "I promise."

"Everyone was having fun," Keith frowned, finally lifting his head to look at him, "-and then I started crying. How did I _not_ ruin the mood?"

"Okay," Shiro admitted, "-maybe you ruined it a little. But nobody is mad at you, Keith."

"I don't even know why I was crying!" Keith blurted out. "I just- I don't know. I don't get it. There wasn't anything in my eyes, and nothing sad was happening, so I- it doesn't make sense."

"You got overwhelmed." Shiro stated. "It's okay, it happens. We should have known better than to try and spring all of that on you."

Even back on Earth, Keith hadn't liked celebrating his birthday. He'd tried, those first two years- before he'd accepted that Keith just wasn't the birthday type. Usually, he'd just buy him a cupcake and call it a day, though it never changed the fact that he always felt compelled to do more.

So when Hunk and Pidge had suggested actually celebrating... well, he hadn't entirely been on board at first. But the more they got into it, the more Shiro had- to the extent that yeah, he might have gotten a little carried away, and hadn't stopped to fully think things through. That was his fault.

Eyes going wide, Keith rapidly shook his head, his braid bouncing. "No, it was- I liked it. Really, I just-"

Dropping his gaze, Keith stared down at his hands. "I don't know. I just felt... I kept coming back to the first image."

He didn't miss the significance of those words.

Maybe Keith didn't know, but that had been a shot that had been taken from the porch of his old shack. Hunk had been the one to snap it, apparently, before they had gone to search for the blue lion. Most of the images they had used, they had pulled from the paladins' phones, or Pidge's laptop.

It had _seemed_ like a good idea at the time. But in hindsight, maybe they should have thought it through a little more. Just because Keith was a little more stable than he had been when he had first returned to the Castle of Lions, didn't mean he was ready to be faced with photographic evidence of a life he didn't remember- even if it was just scenery.

Except he reacted to it, which meant that on some level, he _did_ remember. Maybe not consciously, but it was there.

Pidge had mentioned how Keith had recalled something while he'd been sick. A vague, haphazard memory of a hand pressed against his forehead, rough and calloused. Barely anything, but it had been enough to make Keith tear up.

He'd gone silent, he'd realized. Keith did too.

"Shiro?" Keith asked, his brow furrowing. "Did it- did that first image mean something?"

Swallowing, Shiro weighed his options. "It was- you grew up in that desert, Keith."

Something indescribable flashed through the red paladin's eyes at that. Leaning forward, he seemed to search his face for something- before pulling back, placing an idle hand over his heart.

"Is that why it felt like home?"

His voice was weak, like he was almost hesitant to ask.

"Is that how it felt?" Shiro asked, keeping his voice gentle, controlled. The last thing he wanted was to sound _excited_.

Even if he couldn't deny the feeling that bubbled up in his chest.

Keith remembering _anything_ , however fragmented, was a good thing, right? This made two- and maybe they were nothing substantial, not even close, but they were, at least, something. It should make him happy- it was what he wanted.

If Keith never regained his memories, that would be fine. He _meant_ that. But at the same time... he did _want_ it. Maybe it wasn't something he would admit to openly, but he wasn't going to lie to himself either- he knew it was something that he desired.

"Yeah," Keith admitted, his voice still quiet, "-I think- I think it felt like home to me."

Lifting his head, Keith looked at him, once again searching his face for something he couldn't begin to guess. "It felt like home... but it also hurt."

Chewing on his lip, Shiro debated how much he should tell him. Keith was in a fragile place right now- the last thing he wanted to do was to make that worse.

"You might miss it." Shiro settled on.

Frowning, Keith's brow furrowed, like that wasn't quite the answer he had been hoping for. "How can I miss a place I don't even remember?"

"No clue." Shiro admitted. "But life works in mysterious ways, sometimes."

"Well it sucks." Keith muttered.

Unable to help himself, Shiro let out a snort. Turning his head away, he could feel Keith's gaze on him, holding up a hand while he tried in vain to catch his breath, his single snort somehow managing to devolve into a fit of laughter on his part.

It was just... Keith sounded so much like an impertinent teenager. And after having to grow up too fast, then not even being able to remember the reason _why_ , it was... it was kind of good to hear that.

Once he finally quieted down, taking in a long breath, he shook his head. "Yeah," he agreed, "-it does kind of suck."

To his relief, Keith cracked a faint smile. "I should probably apologize to everyone for running out like that."

"Only if you're ready." Shiro told him. "Are you?"

Chewing on his lip, Keith shook his head. Patting his shoulder, Shiro smiled reassuringly at him. "Then you don't have to do it just yet."

They sat in silence for a good while- peaceful silence. It reminded him with a pang of late night study sessions, of watching the stars on the roof of the Garrison.

They'd never get those times back. Neither of them.

But that was okay, he thought. They could make new memories together, experience new things. They would get back to Earth someday, and he could introduce Keith to the constellations all over again, sitting on the Garrison roof with Adam and a mug of hot chocolate.

(Adam. God. He'd let him tell him _I told you so_ until he was sick of it.)

Things had changed. For both of them- he wasn't the same man who had left Earth over two years ago now, bound for Kerberos, hoping to prove himself.

But that didn't mean everything had to change.

"Okay," Keith finally said, breaking him out of his thoughts, "-I think I'm better now."

"You sure?" Shiro asked.

Nodding his head, Keith gave him a weak smile. "I'm sure."

Getting to his feet, Shiro offered Keith a hand. Using it to haul the half-Galra onto his feet, he smiled at him. "You know, I don't think I've wished you a happy birthday yet."

"Oh," Keith tilted his head, in a way that was purely Kethe, "-you probably should."

Cracking a grin at that, Shiro pushed aside any and all thoughts to just live in the moment. Back when he had been in the arena, he'd thought that he wouldn't live to see Keith again, much less survive to see his next birthday.

Yet here he was.

"Happy birthday, Keith."

* * *

Later that night, Kethe sat alone in his quarters, turning over one of the two party poppers he had taken in his hands.

He had gone with Shiro back to the lounge, and had hurriedly apologized to everyone, half tripping over his own words. He wasn't good at that sort of thing, and he couldn't help but wonder if Keith had been just as bad at it. It felt like it was true, but he'd no idea.

Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back against the wall. A vast desert spread out underneath his eyelids, burned into his memory now, and unlikely to be forgotten. It was just a photograph, not a true memory- but it was fine.

Home.

But this too, he thought, idly twirling the party popper between his fingers- this too, was home.

 _"But a person can have more than one home, you know."_

Ah, he thought, Hunk had been right.


	17. home side

And we're back! I'm not one hundred percent certain at how many chapters this new installment will have, but I do know that it will cover until the end of season four. Which yes, means a Certain Event will be covered within the confines of this installment. Something to both look forward to and also dread, I guess, depending on your point of view!

That said, until next time~!

* * *

 **abyss of being**

 **home side**

* * *

"So... you holding up okay?"

Glancing up at Hunk, Kethe blinked. He and Hunk had been elected to help with some heavy lifting the Olkari couldn't manage- it felt like they had been doing nothing but moving boxes and components since that morning. Right now they were on break, while the pair of Olkari who were in charge of this sector argued over schematics.

"Fine," Kethe told him, "-a little sore, but nothing I can't handle. Are you okay?"

"Mm, yeah, I'm a bit sore myself." Hunk admitted. "This seat taken?"

Shaking his head, he watched as Hunk all but collapsed on the crate next to him. Tail lazily swishing behind him, he offered the yellow paladin his canteen, which Hunk gratefully accepted, taking a long swig of water.

They were a mismatched pair, human and Galra, one in paladin armor, and the other in Blade armor. But it was fine. Hardly any of the Olkari batted an eye at him. And in turn, the refugees they brought in picked up on that.

"You know," Hunk began, "-I'm grateful that Olkarion has such a mild climate, or I'm pretty sure I would be dying right about now. It's weird. You would think I would be used to the heat, but nah."

"I don't mind the heat," Kethe observed, "-but I can't stand the cold."

"Yeah?" Hunk asked, passing his canteen back. "I always thought the Blade of Marmora's base was kind of on the cold side."

Giving him a weak smile, Kethe accepted the canteen. "Well, it's not like I grew up there."

"Hm, fair point." Hunk mused. "You know, maybe once we get some actual downtime, we can go and check out some of those desert planets that are on the Castle's star charts. There's gotta be a few that are close to Earth's."

"Downtime." Kethe echoed. "Yeah. That'll happen."

He guess now technically qualified as downtime, but everyone had been so on edge that no one had really been able to enjoy it. Besides, he didn't think it would last for much longer- there was only so long they could put their war efforts on hold, and now that the clone was awake, there wasn't much reason to keep doing it.

If anything, they should be grateful that they even found the clone when they did- now, while Zarkon was still distracted with his hunt for Prince Lotor was probably the best possible time. But if he had to be honest, part of him was almost itching to get back into the red lion again.

He hadn't even run any Blade missions lately. All he had done lately was hang around the Castle, train, and help Hunk in the kitchen- he'd like to say he'd been helping with his and Pidge's efforts to make a prosthetic for Regris, but he was frankly kind of out of his depth there. If anything, he was just there for moral support.

"Hey, it could." Hunk nudged him. "But seriously- you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm," he began, it suddenly dawning on him what Hunk meant, "-I'm fine, Hunk. Just a little anxious, I guess."

Tilting his head back to look at his tail, Hunk just arched a brow. He winced- it basically hadn't been still since yesterday. "Just a little?"

"Okay," Kethe admitted, "-maybe a lot anxious."

"Is that why you accepted this job?" Hunk asked. "You know... get you out of the Castle, take your mind off of things."

"Kind of." Kethe told him, vaguely annoyed at how easily Hunk had seen through him. "I just- I don't know, Hunk. I thought I was ready for this, but I'm not. But at the same time..."

"-you just want this to be over with?" Hunk finished, to which he nodded. "Hey, I get it."

Briefly giving Hunk a grateful smile, Kethe fixed his gaze in front, half listening to the pair of Olkari squabble. He knew Hunk had met the clone, but they hadn't actually discussed it yet. "I just... I feel like if he saw me, it'd just make things worse."

"Because you're Galra?" Hunk asked.

Nodding, he stared down at his hands, pressing his claws lightly into his palms. "I don't want him to think it's his fault."

"I mean... it's not." Hunk said. "He's a victim too."

"Well, yeah." Kethe agreed. "But he might not think of it that way."

"True." Hunk admitted. "But you can't hide from him forever. I mean... he knows you're on the Castle, so after awhile, he's probably going to start asking about you."

Humming in acknowledgment, Kethe leaned back, bringing his knees up to his chest, resting his heels on top of the crate. He was right. He knew _he'd_ be curious after awhile, and he and the clone were bound to have things in common. "I know. I just... I'm not ready yet."

"To be fair," Hunk said, "-I don't think he is either."

Yeah. Didn't surprise him. He'd had it rough. If he were in his shoes, the last thing he'd want to do right now was meet what was effectively his source material. Eventually his curiosity would probably win out, but... he seriously wouldn't blame the guy if he resented him.

"Yeah. I guess he wouldn't be." Kethe said. "On the plus side, I guess at least there's no possible way to confuse us."

"Yeah, true." Hunk said. "But uh... how do you feel about it? I mean, the fact that he's..."

"-human?" Kethe finished, one hand unconsciously toying with his braid. "I- it's fine. It's not as bad as I thought it would be. Or at least, it wasn't, when he was in the pod."

Now that he was awake... that might change things, but he couldn't be sure. The affirmation the paladins had given him over the past week certainly helped, but it wasn't that easy to shake off months of self-doubt and anxiety.

It had helped, though. A lot.

"Well... you know we're here for you, right?" Hunk offered.

Looking up, Kethe felt himself smile. He did, actually. It had taken him awhile to understand it, but... he did know that. "I do. Thanks, Hunk."

"Hey, we're friends, right?" Hunk asked, before hauling himself to his feet. "Come on, we'd better get back to the grind."

Groaning, Kethe let his tail droop. "It feels like we've been moving boxes all day, and we've barely even made a dent. At this rate, we might not even finish until tomorrow."

"Hm, fair point." Hunk frowned, considering it. "Shiro's supposed to be meeting with Kolivan and the princess today, so he's out, and Regris still isn't back up to full strength... maybe we should get Lance to come and help?"

Snorting, Kethe uncurled himself, springing to his feet. "Lance's arms are basically noodles. He wouldn't even make it past the first box. He'd die."

Hunk's snort didn't exactly serve to make him any less anxious, but that was fine. Because he was right- he wasn't alone. He had people here that he could talk to, who he could rely on- and he was starting to understand just how important that was.

He'd found a place.

He'd had a place with the Blade of Marmora too, and he always would. But he'd found another- a second home. He was starting to think that it might have become that way, even if he _wasn't_ Keith Kogane- or had been, at one point. Watching Hunk's back as he spoke to the Olkari, he felt his smile grow, his expression softening.

This was his home. These people were his family.

And he'd do anything to protect it.

* * *

When they had first discovered the clone a week ago, one of the first things they had done after the paladins had been debriefed was to inform Kolivan. And while they kept him abreast of the situation, the Blade leader had been unable to come by in person, having been embroiled with a mission of his own.

But that mission was over now, and he'd been able to make time. Allura had gone ahead to the hangar to meet his shuttle, and was to escort the Blade leader to the bridge, where Shiro waited. There was a single screen on the bridge's main display, displaying video feed from the Castle's med bay.

The video feed was live, and judging from the way the clone anxiously kept looking in the direction of the camera, he knew it was there. He'd been tempted to switch the feed off several times already, but this was still better than the alternative. He didn't think he was ready to meet Kolivan just yet.

"So this is the clone that you recovered?" Kolivan inquired, causing Shiro to flinch.

Figures the leader of the Blade would be the most silent of them all. Watching out of the corner of his eye as Kolivan joined him, he gave the Galra a curt nod of his head.

"That's him." Shiro said. "Coran's giving him a full medical evaluation now. We did scans in the pod, but..."

"Those can only tell us so much." Allura finished, flanking Kolivan's side.

Furrowing his brow, Kolivan stared at the screen. There was no audio- there was the option, but he'd switched it off. The clone deserved at least _some_ measure of privacy.

"Pidge was able to pull some data from the prison's servers that we think might be relevant." Shiro began, bringing up the aforementioned data on screen, partially obscuring the video feed. "But it's all in code, and not any that we've seen before. We thought you might be more familiar with it."

Kolivan frowned, gaze tracking the symbols. "I've seen this code before."

"Do you know how to crack it?" Shiro asked. "When Pidge found it, it was hidden deep within their systems. We can't say for sure if it's related to the clone, but it's likely, given the lengths they went through to hide it."

Kolivan's gaze briefly flickered in his direction. "Unfortunately, no. But this _is_ the same kind of code that Haggar used to transmit messages from the prison ship we recovered Kethe on. Ulaz was working on cracking it, but..."

Ah. Right.

"Perhaps Pidge and her brother will have a bit more luck." Allura remarked. "They were able to crack that code from the other day."

Shiro recalled exactly what she meant, even if it felt like it was a lifetime ago. In reality, he knew that it had been less than a month since they had cracked the code that had lead them to Lotor, just in time to see his ship being attacked by multiple Galran fleets.

And to learn that Zarkon was still alive.

Needless to say, it had been a busy month.

"Perhaps," Kolivan observed, "-Ulaz was our most talented code breaker, but we may yet be of some use. I'd like to make a copy."

Allura nodded. "Of course. That is part of the reason we called you here."

Plucking a data chip from underneath his fingernail, Kolivan inserted it into the data console. Quickly downloading the information, he glanced back towards the video feed, gaze tracking the clone. "Have you found anything to indicate that he might be a threat?"

"No," Shiro said, a bit too quickly, "-nothing. We think Haggar just threw him away."

Kolivan raised a brow at the speed of his reply, but chose not to say anything. "How much does he know?"

"We have not yet questioned him in any depth." Allura observed, her gaze briefly flickering in his direction. "Shiro thought it prudent to wait."

"He's been held prisoner by the Galra since he was born." Shiro said, purposefully avoiding usage of the word _made_ , a choice which did not go unnoticed by Kolivan. "We want him to feel safe here first. Questioning him can wait."

Kolivan merely frowned at that. "I trust that you are not letting your connection with the red paladin to cloud your judgement."

"No." Shiro said firmly, the manner in which Kolivan had chosen to express that not lost on him. _Red paladin_ , not _Kethe_. "I'm not."

Kolivan held his gaze for a long moment, before he merely hummed, fixing his gaze back on the screen. "He is aware he's being recorded."

"He's aware there's cameras." Shiro noted. "I don't think he actually knows he's being watched. He's... Keith used to do that too, back when I first brought him into the Garrison. Cameras made him nervous."

Kolivan frowned. "I was under the impression that the clone was aware he was not the original."

"He is." Shiro replied. "But he still shares a lot in common with Keith. The imprisonment hasn't helped. It's why we should be working to _gain_ his trust. He's not the enemy."

"I must agree with Shiro on this one." Allura chimed in. "While he was still in the pod, I had Coran perform a number of diagnostic scans, many of which we had previously run on Keith. We found no signs of any mental interference, nor anything to suggest that Haggar might have some way of controlling him. I believe we can trust him."

"He ran away." Kolivan observed.

"Because he panicked." Shiro insisted.

Kolivan hummed a second time, watching as the clone without comment. Shiro wondered what he saw- he only knew Keith as a Galra, though Ulaz had probably forwarded the data that they had given him in regards to Keith, so he had to know what he'd looked like as a human.

He thought about how strange it was to see Keith as a Galra for the first time, and wondered if that was similar to how Kolivan felt now. When he had first seen his face in that darkened hallway... Shiro bit down on his lip, trying not to think about it.

"Where is Kethe?" Kolivan asked.

"He's down on Olkarion, with Hunk." Shiro informed him. "With the recent influx of refugees they've been getting, Ryner's been a little shorthanded."

At least within the confines of Olkarion, Keith's face was known as being their liaison to the Blade of Marmora. It didn't mean he wasn't ever hassled, but it happened a lot less than it did on other planets. He thought it was a good thing- it got Keith out of the Castle, and out amongst the general populace, and that would go a long way to convincing them that the Galra _could_ be allies.

And it was good for Keith, too. The more time he spent with other people, the more he started to open up- and he had to admit, he was proud of how far he'd come.

He just wished it hadn't involved getting his mind wiped.

"We have not yet introduced the two." Allura added. "We believe that it is a situation that calls for... delicacy."

"Delicacy." Kolivan repeated.

"He is... in a fragile place, at the moment." Allura observed. "The clone, that is. Or _x_ , as he wishes to be called. He seems to have taken to the paladins' alias for him."

Shiro frowned at that. _X_ wasn't a name, and the clone had to know that- it was a placeholder, at best. That he'd actually _asked_ to be called that was indicative of a lot of things, the least of which was the fact that no one had ever bothered to name him before now.

He wasn't sure if the clone even thought of himself as a person.

Allura was right. He _was_ in a fragile place right now.

"I will leave the matter of the clone up to your discretion." Kolivan finally said. "But keep me informed."

"Of course." Allura promised. "Now, as for the _other_ matter we called you here for... I take it that your presence here means that you were able to successfully complete your mission?"

"Just this past quintant." Kolivan informed her. "With the assistance of one of our spies, we were able to successfully execute an operation to free the planet from the Empire's control. It maintains a hospital of some magnitude, though it took significant damage during the Galra occupation."

"Do you think it can be salvaged?" Allura inquired.

"It will take some time for it to recover, but it should. The biggest challenge will be finding them a new power source, since the Galra destroyed most of its previous grid." Kolivan stated. "Once they do, it should become a valuable asset to the Coalition."

Shiro listened with half an ear, taking the chance to switch off the feed from the med bay. If they were done discussing the clone, then as far as he was concerned, there was no further need to continue to violate his privacy.

Nobody objected.

* * *

He'd lost count of the number of times that he had glanced in the direction of the camera. He didn't know if it was even really a camera. It could have just been some kind of a wall decoration, but he wasn't taking his chances.

He knew it shouldn't bother him. But it did.

"Almost done, lad." Coran informed him.

Biting on his lip, he gave the Altean a quick nod. The faster they got this exam over with, the better. He understood why it was necessary, but he just couldn't calm down. Just being in here made his skin crawl, even if the Castle's medical ward was a far cry from the dimly lit cell he was used to.

It was so bright, that it actually hurt his eyes. He knew he could probably ask Coran to dim the lights, but even considering the question made him feel guilty. He'd just have to get used to it.

The paladins had given him freedom. What more could he possibly ask for?

"Now," Coran began, "-I _am_ afraid that I'll be needing a blood sample."

He flinched. Memories- both his own and those that belonged to the original- flashed through his head. They'd both had unpleasant experiences with needles, so he approached the idea of getting his blood drawn with a certain level of dread.

Honestly, he didn't want it to happen at all. But his opinion didn't matter, so he just nodded his head, sticking out his arm and holding his breath.

Coran frowned, studying him. "If you're nervous..."

"I'm fine," he cut him off, "-just get it over with."

The Altean stared at him for a moment longer, before he let out a faint sigh. At the sight of the needle, he felt himself tense, unconsciously welding his eyes shut. He still felt it when it pricked his arm, what should have been a tiny pinch feeling instead like an electric shock. He had to bite down on his lip, trying to convince himself that it was all in his head.

It was only when Coran told him that he was done, that he let himself breathe.

Opening his eyes, he glanced up towards the maybe camera again. For the umpteenth time, he caught himself wondering if it really was a camera, and if anyone was watching.

It was fine. He got it if they were. He wouldn't trust him either. But it still made him nervous.

"There you are," Coran gave his knee a pat, and he felt himself bristle at the touch, but didn't say anything, "-all done. If I notice any anomalies, I'll be sure to let you know."

Frowning, he rubbed his knee where Coran had touched it, watching as the Altean filed away his blood sample. _Anomaly_ , he'd said- like his whole existence wasn't one fucked up anomaly already.

He watched Coran work in silence. He hadn't told him he could leave, so he just assumed that meant he couldn't. It took the Altean a few minutes, but once he turned around again, he nearly jumped out of his skin, clearly not expecting to still see him there.

"You're still here?" Coran asked.

"I- you didn't say I could leave." He said, feeling a bit dumb.

Oh. Right. He should have known. He just... he wasn't exactly good at making independent decisions. He almost wished he were more like the original in that regard- it wasn't like he _wanted_ to just do what he was told, but he'd learned early on that sometimes the best way to survive was to just shut up and do as he was instructed.

In spite of everything, he didn't actually want to die.

Coran frowned, tugging his mustache in consideration. "If you don't mind me saying," he began, "-it seems an awful lot like you don't quite know what to do with yourself."

Brow furrowing, he just gave the man a nod. It wasn't like he'd ever been _free_ before. Now that he was, he didn't know how to handle it.

It felt... wrong, almost. Like he didn't deserve it.

He knew that Haggar had made him with a purpose in mind- a purpose that he had been unable to fulfill. He couldn't pretend to be someone he wasn't, and she didn't want someone who pretended anyways. She wanted someone who _believed_.

He'd been a failure. Just a copy that couldn't even serve his purpose- which made him useless. Without that purpose, what reason did he even have to exist?

Coran was still waiting for an answer, he sensed. He wasn't impatient, didn't rush him- and he kind of wished he _did_. If he didn't respond in a timely fashion to his captors, they would withhold food, sometimes water from him- he suspected that they had been given orders from Haggar to not hurt him, but everything else was fair game, apparently.

They'd loathed him.

He wasn't dumb enough to think any of the paladins actually _liked_ him, or even cared about him. But they tolerated him, maybe even pitied him. It made them kind, a testament to how good they were.

He had no experience with _goodness_.

It almost made him wish they were cruel. At least he knew how to respond to that.

"You know," Coran began, "-if there's something on your mind, you can always talk to old Coran here. Not to toot my horn, but I've been told in the past that I give pretty good advice."

"I," he began, only to quickly shut his mouth, "-no, it's nothing. You're right. I should go. Sorry."

Ducking out of the med bay before he could hear what Coran had to say in response, he tried not to think. Hurrying down the hall, he made his way to the elevator, pressing his hand against the access panel, waiting for it to blare red, tell him that he was denied- only for it to flash green instead, letting him in.

Slipping inside, he had to use the wall to steady himself. Groaning, his head swam, vision blurring- but he shook it off, taking in a long breath. Right. Quick movements were bad. He kept forgetting that.

Exhaling, he leaned back against the wall, briefly folding his arms in front of him. The second he realized what he was doing, he awkwardly dropped them to his sides. He even had habits ingrained into him from the original- that just didn't seem fair.

He wished they would just take these memories out of his head and be done with it already. At least then he wouldn't have to suffer. Sure, he'd be left with nothing but the time he'd spent as a Galra prisoner, but would that really be so bad? Having _any_ memories of his own, even bad ones, almost seemed like it was more than he deserved.

He just... he didn't know. He didn't know what he wanted.

Just a week ago, he'd thought he'd die in prison. And now he was here, on the Castle of Lions, surrounded by people he did and didn't know, granted the one thing he thought he'd never have the chance to experience for himself- freedom.

And it was already turning him into a damn _wreck_.

* * *

"Ah, Shiro," Coran said, "-if you're looking for x, he just left."

Stepping into the med bay, Shiro gave the Altean a weak smile. "I take it you already finished his exam, then."

He'd been hoping to catch him before he left, but it looked like he was out of luck. His meeting with Kolivan and the princess had run a bit over, but there had been a lot to discuss- with Zarkon distracted with his pursuit of Lotor, now was the best chance for them to strike. But in order to do that, first they had to grow the Coalition, otherwise they wouldn't stand a chance.

Matt had hooked them up with several rebel networks, which definitely helped, but it only made a dent into what they would actually need in order to plan a full scale offensive of any kind against the Galra.

It looked like more air shows were in order. Lance would probably be happy about that.

"That I did." Coran told him. "Just going over the results now. I took a blood sample, so I'm checking it over for any irregularities."

"Everything fine so far?" Shiro asked.

"For the most part." Coran noted. "As one might expect, several phoebs worth of malnourishment took their toll on the poor lad, even if the healing pod dealt with the worst of it. But with time, and Hunk's carefully plotted meal plan, of course," he added, "-I have confidence that he'll make a full recovery."

Shiro wasn't going to pretend he didn't feel a little relived to hear that. There was a lot of work ahead of them, but it was good to hear Coran sounding so optimistic.

"On the other hand..." Coran's expression faltered, "-that's only in terms of the _physical_."

Shiro's face fell. Yeah. He'd kind of expected that.

"How bad is it?" Shiro asked.

"I'll be honest with you, Shiro." Coran told him. "It's bad."

Heaving a sigh, he dug his right hand into his forelock, shutting his eyes. He kind of wished Adam were here- he'd helped him out a lot when it came to Keith, so he could really use his help here. Because right now, Shiro didn't even know where to _start_.

He felt like he should, but frankly, he didn't.

"Thanks, Coran." Shiro said weakly. "I can handle it from here."

"Actually," Coran began, "-I'm not so sure that's such a good idea."

Shiro frowned, staring at Coran blankly. "What do you mean?"

"You and Number Four were close, yes?" Coran asked.

"I... yeah." Shiro frowned, trying not to let the use of the word _were_ sting. They were still close, just... not as much as they had been before. Keith had Regris for that now. "But what does that have to do with anything?"

"Why, everything!" Coran exclaimed. "Especially since I suspect that you've been spending these past few phoebs avoiding dealing with your own feelings towards Number Four's memory loss."

Opening his mouth to protest that, Shiro quickly shut it. He hated to admit it, but Coran wasn't wrong.

"It's just... there's never been any time." Shiro told him, and he knew that was a weak excuse the moment it left his mouth. But that was okay. He had better ones. "And the other paladins, they're just... they're just _kids_ , Coran. They're already dealing with enough, they don't need to deal with my issues on top of dealing with Zarkon and the Galra Empire."

And talking about it with Keith was just out of the question.

"Well," Coran began, "-I've got time. Quite a bit of it, in fact."

Frowning, Shiro shifted on his feet. It wasn't like he had _never_ talked about it- there had been that time with the princess, and the time with Matt. Except... now that he thought about, on both occasions, he'd only actually talked about it because he'd basically been cornered by them.

He'd never just... _talked_.

"How about it?" Coran asked. "We could even crack open a bottle of nunvill, if you like."

"I'll have to pass on the nunvill." Shiro said.

"Ah, well, suit yourself." Coran said. "I take it you _do_ want to talk, though."

"I- you're right, it might help." Shiro admitted.

If he went into this with unclear, muddled feelings, the only thing he'd end up doing was hurting the clone. And he deserved more than that. So did Keith, for that matter.

"Well, come on then," Coran told him, pulling out a chair, "-have a seat."

Giving him a weak smile, he took the seat Coran offered. "You're right. Keith and I _were_ close. But that's... changed, ever since he came back. _Keith's_ changed."

It was fine. It was fine that Keith had changed. He had grown so much over the past few months, opening up to the other paladins in ways that he could have never imagined. It finally felt like he'd found his place among them. He couldn't have been more proud of him.

That was the truth.

But it was also a lie.

It was a lie, because there was still some awful part of him that just couldn't- _wouldn't_ \- accept this. It had nothing to do with Keith being Galra. That didn't matter.

"I just- he's _gone_ , Coran." Shiro finally admitted. "Keith's gone."

What that awful, ugly part of him couldn't accept wasn't the fact that Keith was Galra- but that he was Keith _at all_.

"I keep telling myself that I need to accept this." Shiro said. "But I can't. Not completely. Keith was like a brother to me, and it's like... it's like he's been replaced, but I'm the only one who even notices. And I can't even be mad at the replacement, because _he_ doesn't notice it either."

"So I just have to grin and lie through my teeth," he continued, "-and pretend that everything is fine when it's _not_ fine. My brother is gone, and I can't even mourn him because he's not actually _dead_. Just... gone."

"And I shouldn't feel this way." Shiro said. "I know I shouldn't. It's selfish and ugly, and not reflective of the kind of person I should be, but I can't help it. It just won't go away."

"And believe me," he finished, "-I've tried."

God, had he ever tried. But the feelings stuck.

He shouldn't be like this. He knew that. This _wasn't_ him- he wasn't this sort of person. He wasn't selfish, or bitter, and god, he didn't actually resent Kethe- not even close. Maybe he wasn't the same Keith that he had known, but he was still Keith, and he was still important to him.

But he did. Some part of him _was_ like that.

Maybe it was something in him that had snapped after Kerberos. Maybe it had been in him all along. He didn't know. It didn't matter.

All that mattered was that there was some part of him that hated Keith.

But now it was over and done with. He'd said it. It was out there, and he couldn't take any of it back. He realized that he hadn't looked at Coran even once since he'd begun speaking, essentially just dumping out negative feeling after negative feeling on the Altean, all of which he'd listened to without uttering a single complaint.

He'd expected him to look disgusted, _revolted_. He was the black paladin, the leader of Voltron. He was supposed to be _in command at all times_ , not... not whatever _this_ was.

But instead, he just looked... contemplative. Considerate. _Understanding_.

He didn't know if that was better.

"That's an awful lot to have been keeping in, all this time," Coran finally said, "-but I'm glad that you chose to confide in me."

Exhaling, Shiro realized that he felt... _lighter_ , somehow. Like the ugly feelings that had twisted up in his stomach had begun to dissipate. Before, they had just twisted up tighter whenever he touched on the issue, but now... now it felt like he could finally breathe.

Oh.

That was it. He'd told someone, so now the burden had been lessened. It was so simple, yet he'd failed to realize it.

"I... me too, actually." Shiro admitted, giving him a weak smile. "I guess I should thank you for hearing me out. That... couldn't have been easy."

"I believe you Earthlings have a phrase you like to use for that," Coran said, "-something about demons?"

"We all have our own demons?" Shiro guessed.

"Ah yes, that's the one." Coran nodded. "It's not the demons that matter, but whether you choose to let those demons define you. And you, Shiro, are a great deal stronger than your worst demons."

"I don't feel that way." Shiro admitted.

"Ah, that's what they like to trick you into thinking." Coran assured him.

He wasn't entirely certain he bought that, but the sentiment was nice.

Coran seemed to pick up on his skepticism. "Let me put it this way. If you were given the chance, right now, to get _your_ Keith back on the condition that Kethe were to be erased, would you take it?"

Jerking his head up, Shiro's eyes went wide. "Wha- no!"

He did want Keith back, but that didn't mean he wanted to erase Kethe. That wasn't fair. He had just as much right to exist as anyone else.

"There, you see?" Coran said. "If you were really so awful, you would have said yes."

Shiro blinked, opening his mouth to say that they had no way to know that for sure- only to close it. He... he was right, actually. His kneejerk reaction to even the mere _idea_ had been to shut it down without even so much as considering it.

"Huh," he frowned, "-maybe you're right."

Letting out another long breath, Shiro leaned back in his chair. That might not be the only thing Coran was right about. Maybe he _wasn't_ the best choice for helping the clone. After everything he had been through, he deserved someone who could actually separate him from Keith- and he wasn't confident that he could do that.

Maybe _that_ was what Matt had been trying to get through to him.

He'd never... the thought of using the clone as a replacement for Keith had _never_ occurred to him. Whatever other twisted, ugly feelings he had kept inside of him, that hadn't been one of them. There had been frustration- _anger_ even, that there was another person out there, wearing Keith's face when Keith was gone.

He wasn't angry at the clone. No- that anger was directed solely towards Haggar.

"So," Shiro began, clearing his throat, "-if I'm not the best choice- and you're right, I'm not- who is? Hunk? Pidge, maybe?"

"Actually," Coran began, "-I was wondering if you could leave x to me."

Shiro blinked at that. "You?"

It wasn't that he had a problem with it, it just kind of took him by surprise.

Tugging on the edge of his mustache, Coran hummed. "I could use an extra hand around the Castle, and I think having some kind of purpose might do the lad good."

That was a good point. He hated using Keith as a basis for the clone's behavior, but he knew for a fact that Keith was the kind who tended to drift without a purpose. It wasn't unreasonable to expect that the clone might be the same way.

If not worse. Grimacing, Shiro realized that there was a real chance he might regard himself as a failure. Coran was definitely right- the faster they gave him some kind of purpose, the better it would be for him, even if it was just helping out around the Castle.

"Yeah," Shiro nodded, "-that sounds like a plan. I'll tell the others."

Getting to his feet, Shiro paused, a slight frown on his face, a sudden thought popping into his head. "Did he say anything?"

Coran blinked. "About?"

"If he knew he was Galra or not." Shiro told him.

Understanding dawning on his features, Coran mirrored his frown. "He didn't mention it, no. He did allow me to take a blood sample, but it's possible that he's been conditioned to not refuse what people ask of him- or I suppose given his past history, _demand_ would be a more apt word. Thankfully, I think that's more due to trauma than anything that's actually up here."

Coran tapped his head to further indicate what he meant. "I can say that he certainly didn't _want_ to have his blood drawn, but I suspect that may have to do more with a fear of needles than it does anything else."

Shiro grimaced. Keith had never liked needles, and his clone probably had even less reason to like them.

"Well, either way, we should probably find out if he does know." Shiro told him. "It might save us a lot of time if he does."

"I'll see what I can find out." Coran assured him.

"Thanks, Coran." Shiro told him. "I- for everything."

"Oh, think nothing of it." Coran said. "I used to hear Alfor out all the time. Used to be my job, you know. Advisor."

It was a testament to Coran's strength that his expression barely even faltered as he brought up the past. He didn't doubt that he was hurting, but he never showed it the same way Allura did.

"King Alfor sounds like he was lucky to have you." Shiro told him.

"Ah, well," Coran said, "-I'd like to think so too."

He didn't just think it. He knew it. Maybe it often went without notice, but Shiro had never failed to miss the way that Coran held this place together, often without compliant.

If Voltron had an unsung hero, it was most definitely Coran.

* * *

Letting out a long groan, Kethe collapsed on the couch, barely able to get his tail out of the way in time to avoid smushing the whole of it. He'd spent the entire day moving boxes, and his muscles were already starting to punish him for it. He'd probably be sore for awhile.

At least he was better off than Hunk- or _Lance_ , for that matter, who had came to join them around lunch, and had promptly strained his shoulder. Pidge had to accompany him back to the ship, and odds were, he was probably sulking somewhere with a heating pad stuck to his shoulder still.

Still, he was exhausted. He had been fighting the urge to take a nap since around noon, in part because he didn't want to leave Hunk to finish their task alone, and in part because... yeah, he was kind of avoiding the Castle at the moment. It was just... what if he ran into the clone, ruined everything?

He didn't think it would happen, but what if it did?

Even so, he barely looked up as the doors to the lounge slid open. Didn't matter. He knew whose scent that was.

"Tire yourself out?" Regris asked, stooping over where he lay. "It is easy to forget you are still but a babe."

"Shut up," Kethe mumbled- he might be tired, but he was not about to let that slip by him, even if he knew Regris didn't really mean it, "-I'm not that young. Hauling stuff around takes different muscles than fighting, that's all."

That earned him a chuckle, Regris hauling him up into a sitting position. He went limp in his grip, tail flicking behind him. The older Blade had begun to adjust to the loss of his own, but it was clear that for Regris, its loss would be difficult to fully recover from. He might never be able to return to the battlefield.

He knew it had to affect him, but he never let it show.

"You should not sleep in your armor." Regris observed, unhooking his chest plate, hauling it over his arms and setting it aside. "Try this instead."

He dumped something into Kethe's lap, causing him to slowly blink. The familiar red leather of his jacket caught his eye, and he tugged it on without a protest, before collapsing back onto the couch, on his side this time, to the relief of his tail. He debated taking off the gauntlets, but frankly couldn't be bothered.

Yeah. That was better.

Closing his eyes, his tail flicked behind him, the only sign that he was still awake. "You seen him?"

"You mean your clone?" Regris asked. "No."

Making a faint hum, Kethe dimly wondered if he should have made the trek to his own room to nap, just in case. Too much effort, he quickly decided. The lounge was closer to the kitchen anyways, and dinner was in less than a varga.

"Probably for the best," he mumbled, "-wouldn't want to spook him."

He didn't even have to look to know that Regris was making a show of preening. He just knew. "I have been known to be quite intimidating."

"Only until you open your mouth," Kethe observed, cracking an eye open, "-and you reveal the fact that you're actually just a nerd. You're as bad as Pidge, I swear."

"You wound me with your human insults." Regris declared, lying through his teeth. "Though I cannot say being compared to the green paladin is entirely unflattering."

Kethe snorted at that. He shouldn't have been, but he was still surprised to see how well the two of them had hit it off- and it wasn't just Pidge either. He was still sore about Regris dragging him off to see Matt back when he had been trying to hide from him, but he guessed that was probably when the two of them had started hitting it off.

Closing his eyes, he shifted a bit, draping his tail over his legs. Regris went silent, save for the sound of his breathing, steady and rhythmic. He felt his own breathing change to match, slowly but surely lulling him to sleep.

But he didn't quite drift off just yet.

"I never thanked you."

Regris frowned. "For what?"

"For telling me to stay." Kethe told him.

"You did, though." Regris told him. "Right after I told you to."

"Yeah, but..." Kethe frowned a little at that, cracking one eye open, peering up at the Blade. "It's not the same. So... thanks."

Regris just smiled, the expression no more than the faintest curl at the edge of his lips. "You are happy here."

"Mm," closing his eye, he let out a loud yawn before replying, "-yeah. It's nice."

Regris simply made a low hum, content to lapse back into silence.

Just before he let himself drift off, he couldn't help but think how nice it would be if the clone could one day feel the same way. He really hoped he could.

Home was a nice thing to have.


	18. olkarion side

Here's the next chapter! I had a lot of fun writing this one! That said, wow, it's just about a week until season eight comes out... I hope they start putting up clips of it next week. I'm definitely excited that it looks like Haggar/Honerva is going to be the endgame villain, because it always feels like there's a dearth of female major antagonists just in general.

That said, until next update!

* * *

 **abyss of being**

 **olkarion side**

* * *

He didn't expect to see Coran again so soon.

Or _anyone_ , for that matter. Since that one time in the kitchen, he'd been trying to avoid leaving his room. The paladins had quickly taken to leaving food outside his door, but he hadn't actually had any interactions with them since then. If it hadn't been for Coran coaxing him out for his medical exam, he never would have left it yesterday.

It was better if it stayed that way, he reasoned. For all of them.

So to see Coran standing in his doorway... well, it took him by surprise. Instantly, he felt a touch of worry, wondering if maybe something had come back in the medical results that he should be concerned about. Wouldn't surprise him- he was a clone, after all. Maybe the reason Haggar hadn't bothered to kill him outright was because she knew he'd just start to deteriorate on his own after awhile.

"Coran, wha-"

"Brought you your breakfast!" Coran chirped, hoisting up the tray. It didn't exactly alleviate his concerns- the paladins and the Alteans alike were kind, so maybe he was just trying to reduce the blow of his impending death.

"Um... thanks." He frowned, barely able to pull off his covers in time before Coran thrust the tray towards him. He carefully took it, setting it in his lap. It was some kind of oatmeal, and the aroma already had his mouth watering. Turned out Hunk's cooking was just as good as his not-memories made it out to be.

Then again, he probably wasn't exactly the best frame of reference. Compared to the gruel he was served while imprisoned, he was pretty sure that even the Castle's food goo would taste like a delicacy.

(Not that he had any experience with the food goo himself. He was relying on his not-memories here.)

"Ah, think nothing of it!" Coran told him. "You know, you're more than welcome to come down and eat with us, if you wish."

He swallowed at that. "Thanks, but I'm fine."

As far as he was concerned, the best thing he could do was keep to himself. Staying confined to his room wasn't so bad if it was his own choice, and besides, the quarters he had so generously been given were a vast improvement over his previous living situation. He hadn't even had a toilet in that cell.

"Ah, well, if you're sure." Coran said.

He frowned, looking up at the Altean. "So... why are you here, exactly? Is it about the test results?"

"Negative, your results came back fine." Coran told him- and in spite of himself, he let out a breath of relief. Sure, slowly wasting away on the Castle at least sounded better than slowly wasting away in prison, but if given the choice, he honestly didn't want to die.

He... didn't really know what he wanted beyond that, but since he was alive, he'd like to maybe at least _try_ to stay that way. Everything else he could figure out later.

But it still made Coran's presence here more confusing. "So... do you need to run more tests?"

"That would be a negative." Coran told him. "Come on now, eat up. We don't have all day."

He blinked. Then blinked again. "Um...?"

But Coran just looked at him expectantly, so it was all he could do to block out his presence. He didn't know how much of his breakfast he could actually eat, but he was hungry, and he'd been without a steady supply of food for too long to turn down anything he was offered.

It tasted just as good as it smelled.

In spite of that, he still only managed to eat about half of it. He wasn't exactly _full_ , but he knew that if he took another bite, he'd regret it. Setting down his spoon, he looked up at Coran, giving the man what he hoped was some kind of smile, if not a weak, incredibly awkward one.

That was what he was supposed to do in this kind of situation right? Smile? Fuck if he knew. He didn't exactly have a whole lot of basis for social interaction, and what he _did_ know came from someone who likewise also didn't have a ton of basis for social interaction, even if he did have more life experience than he did.

It would help, he thought, if Keith Kogane hadn't been such a _recluse_.

"Thanks," he said weakly, "-it was good."

"I'll be sure to pass the message on to Number Two!" Coran remarked, taking the tray from him. "Now, while I take this back down to the kitchen, you get yourself ready. We've got a busy day ahead of us!"

He opened his mouth to ask what he meant, but didn't get the chance. Coran had already left. Staring at where he had just been a second ago, he closed his mouth, wondering if he'd maybe missed an internal memo or something.

Shaking his head, he resolved not to worry about it. Maybe Coran just intended to put him to work. He wasn't sure how he felt about that, but at least it would give him something to do, and keep him from feeling like such a freeloader.

Clambering out of bed, he avoided looking in the mirror, taking a quick shower. He wasn't sure how long it would take for Coran to come back, but he didn't want to be caught with his pants down. He washed and changed at record speed- though to be fair, this was basically the third shower he'd had in his entire life, so there wasn't much of a record to break.

He fussed with his hair a bit, as much as he could without looking in the mirror. He knew he needed to deal with the mats at some point, but at least it was cleaner than it had been since, well... ever. That was an improvement, right?

Tugging at the end of his tunic, he had learned it was traditional wear from a planet called _Olkarion_. That was where they were right now, he supposed, not that it made any difference to him- he had no plans to leave his room, much less to leave the ship. The leggings were Altean, pulled from the clothing stores. There hadn't exactly been any shoes provided in the clothing heap, and he hadn't asked for them yet.

It was fine. The Castle's floors could be so cold, that they made his toes curl, but it was fine. Clean clothes that weren't his prison rags were more than he could ask for. He didn't mind being barefoot.

He scratched idly at one of his hands. They felt bare, but that was just the not-memories at work. He tried to ignore it.

Just when he thought that maybe Coran wasn't actually come back, the Altean returned. Giving him a quick look over, he beamed, nodding his head, seemingly pleased. "Ah, there we are! Now, come along!"

He bit his lip, fidgeting with the edge of his tunic, but he gave the Altean a curt nod. He should probably ask where they were going, but he had already resigned himself to doing whatever it was Coran wanted him to do.

Or at least, he'd _try_. He was pretty sure he was in no condition to do any heavy lifting, but Coran knew that just as well as he did. Maybe better.

Instead, he just fell into step behind Coran. Maybe his not-memories were just inconsistent, but it felt a lot like he was walking slower than usual. He briefly considered the idea that Coran might be trying to match his slightly halting pace, but quickly dismissed it. There wasn't that much need to be considerate of him.

At best, he was just a tool, and one without a purpose at that. In that light, he supposed he should be grateful that Coran was giving him something to do.

They boarded the elevator together, and he noted, not for the first time, that the room he had been given wasn't on the same residential floor as the paladins. He supposed he should be grateful for that too- maybe if he ever got a bit stir crazy at being tucked away in his room all the time, he could at least extend his area out into the hall.

The rest of the Castle was out of the question, however. Not unless someone was asking him to leave, like Coran was now. Maybe he wasn't a prisoner, but he wasn't going to let himself be fooled into thinking he was a _guest_. He wasn't. He didn't know what he was, just... not that.

"So," Coran piped up, and he blinked, not expecting it, "-feeling alright today, lad?"

Nodding his head, he stared down at the floor. It wasn't concern, he told himself. They just wanted to make sure he'd stay alive until they could figure a way to get Keith's memories out of him. That was all.

Coran merely hummed, and he kind of wished he'd said something instead. The silence felt awkward- or at least, it did to him. He chanced a look towards Coran, quickly noting the fact that he didn't seem to be bothered at all.

But then again, he never did. Or at least, that's how he remembered it. Sort of.

He fought back the urge to sigh. Having memories that weren't his was really tiresome. He prayed that the princess could figure out some way to get them out of him quickly.

He trailed behind Coran with some hesitation after the elevator deposited them on the Altean's chosen floor. Frowning, he tried to get a grip on his surroundings- which, fine, maybe there were at least a _few_ benefits to having someone else's memories.

"Uh, Coran?" He began after a moment. "Where are we?"

It looked a lot like they were on the Castle's lowest floor, but that didn't make any sense. As far as he knew, the only thing that was down here was the transport pod that deposited them planetside. At least- as far as he knew. It wasn't like he had ever personally been on the Castle of Lions himself before, so it was entirely possible that there were places where his not-memories weren't complete.

He could only know what Keith knew, after all.

"The Castle's lowest floor!" Coran remarked, confirming his suspicions. "Strange. I thought you would have known that."

"Well... yeah." He frowned, seeing no reason to deny it. "I just don't know why you brought me here."

"Well that's because you'll be accompanying me down to Olkarion!" Coran remarked.

He blinked. Then blinked again.

"Olkari- the planet?" He asked.

"Why of course!" Coran told him. "I've got some business with Ryner that needs attending too."

Brow furrowing, his hand strayed to the edge of his tunic again, turning over the material in his hands. He still didn't understand why Coran would need him for that- or why they were even letting him off the ship. Weren't they afraid that he might try to run away? He had before.

He wanted to ask, to point that out. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Because at the same time as the thought filled him with apprehension, he couldn't deny that there was... well, excitement at the prospect of visiting this _Olkarion_.

Between the witch's research ship, the prison satellite, and the Castle, he'd spent his entire life on spaceships. He had memories of being on planets before- Earth, Arus, and the Balmera, if you could count that, but he'd never actually been on one himself.

He had no idea if it was a good idea or not.

But he still trailed after Coran, getting into the transport pod with some apprehension. His gaze darted about, unsure of where to look. He didn't know what to expect from Olkarion- in his not-memories, Keith had never been here, so he had virtually no knowledge of what was to come.

It almost excited him.

Sure, Keith had probably visited since then, but _he_ never had. _He_ didn't know. And that was... well, not to sound like a broken record, but he didn't know what to make of it. Just that it excited him.

 _Excitement_ was another thing he had no familiarity with, but unlike _kindness_ , he found it a bit easier to deal with. At least he could keep it to himself.

When the pod opened, the first thing he registered was how _bright_ it was. Welding his eyes shut, he let out a faint hiss. He could hear Coran make a small noise of concern, but he ignored it. He'd be fine- he just needed a little time to adjust. He'd spent most of his time in a darkened Galra prison cell, so his eyes had adjusted accordingly.

Slowly but surely, he cracked one open. It took a few tries, but eventually, his eyes adjusted to the bright light. _Natural_ light, some part of him supplied, reminding him that he'd only ever had exposure to artificial light. He could feel its warmth on his body, stirring something deep within his heart, bringing back memories of-

No. He shook them off. That was wrong. Those weren't- they were real, sure, it was just that none of them were _his_. Not staying up until the crack of dawn on New Year's Eve with Shiro, sitting on the roof of the Garrison, or watching the sun rise with his father on Christmas morning.

Those weren't for him.

He swallowed the thoughts back, taking a tentative step out of the pod. The ground was warm under his feet, but not unbearably so- he realized it was some kind of metal, probably alien in origin, since, well... that was where they were. In space.

Though considering he had been _made_ in space, he guessed he technically qualified as an alien too- even without the Galra blood in his veins.

"Well?" Coran asked. "What do you think?"

What did he think? His breath caught in his throat, leaving him unable to form a proper response. Instead, he just stared out onto the vast city, gleaming in the bright sun, its central pillar rising high up above everything else. Beyond it, he could see forests, mountains... things he only knew from knowledge that wasn't his.

He _loved_ it.

He didn't know what the name was of the feeling that stirred in his heart. Whatever it was, it wasn't something he'd had a chance to experience before.

"Ah yes," Coran hummed, taking his silence as a response in and of itself, "-it is quite nice, isn't it? But if you think this is a sight, just wait until you see how far the Balmera has come! Why, it's almost back the way I remember it in my youth."

He blinked, staring up at Coran. He was rattling off some story about his grandfather, but he didn't pay it much mind. All he could focus on was the way he had said that- like... like it had been the plan all along to _include_ him.

He forced himself to look away. That was... that was too much. He couldn't handle that.

"Something wrong?" Coran inquired.

Shaking his head, he didn't dare look up. "I'm fine. What did you... what did you need help with?"

"Ah that, yes," Coran began, tugging at one end of his mustache, "-well, like I said, I've got some business with Ryner that I need to attend to."

"Okay," he frowned- he didn't know who _Ryner_ was, but okay, "-but why do you need _me_?"

"How are you with children?" Coran suddenly asked.

"I've... never met one?" He answered helplessly.

Coran just frowned. "Ah, well, it'll have to do. Come along now!"

Chewing on his lip, he hesitated for a second- before he hurried to catch up with Coran's stride. The second he did, he slowed it back down again, matching his speed. So it _was_ on purpose, some part of him recognized.

As they made their way through the Olkarion city, he fidgeting with his sleeve, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. He tried to keep his gaze fixed to the ground in front of him, but it kept straying, taking note of the vast diversity of alien species that passed. The most common type, the hairless ones that looked like that had some kind of eyebrow antennae, had to be the Olkari, but there were so many different kinds here, none of which he recognized.

Which he guessed wasn't all that surprising, but still.

Some of them paused to look at him, but none of their gazes lingered long. It was still long enough to make him uncomfortable, wondering if any of them realized how much he looked like Voltron's red paladin. The thought made him sick, and he suddenly wished he hadn't left the Castle after all.

"Almost there!" Coran cheerfully reported.

Nodding, he fixed his gaze on the ground properly now. He didn't dare look back up until they reached the central pillar, and then he couldn't help it- following it up and up, until he nearly lost his footing- and would have, if Coran hadn't noticed and caught him just before he did.

"Careful there." Coran warned him, helping him stand back upright again. "Can't have you falling over. Still a bit fragile, I'm afraid."

He didn't need the reminder. It was kind of hard to miss the skinny wrists and lack of any proper muscle tone. It made him feel weak and vulnerable, and he didn't like it.

He let Coran lead him inside, trying not to let his gaze stray too much. They loaded into a thankfully empty elevator, Coran humming a jovial tune in a way that reminded him of elevator music. He had to bite back a snort, wondering if the Alteans even _had_ a concept of elevator music.

"Ah, here we are!" Coran said, as the doors opened up.

Following behind him, he risked letting his gaze stray. There were any number of rooms lining the corridor, each with big windows. They looked like... the closest thing he could compare it to were classrooms, maybe. Coran finally came to a stop in front of one, pressing his hand against the access panel.

At once, he was greeted by noise. Children, a lot of them, with only two very hassled looking adult Olkari to keep them company. The relief in their eyes when they spotted Coran told a story of its own.

"Please tell me you have brought reinforcements." One said, when they managed to break away from the children that had flanked their heels.

"As a matter of fact, I have!" Coran declared, and he suddenly realized he meant _him_.

First they were letting him off the ship, and now they were letting him deal with _children_? He didn't get it. He was a clone, created by the enemy, and they were just... letting him do whatever, basically. It didn't feel right.

He opened his mouth to say something, but he was cut short by Coran's exuberant hair ruffle. He tensed at the touch, his scalp almost seeming to _burn_ \- but strangely, it wasn't an unpleasant feeling.

"Well it's about time." The Olkari remarked. "What's your name?"

He didn't exactly have a name. But he couldn't say that. "It's uh... it's x."

The Olkari merely inclined its brows, casting a look that could only be skeptical over towards Coran. "He looks like he'll break if the children so much as look at him wrong."

He bristled at that. He couldn't help it. He didn't look _that_ weak.

"Ah now, give him a chance." Coran told them. "He might surprise you."

He wanted to protest that no, he wouldn't surprise anyone at all. He didn't know what Coran was thinking, leaving him in charge of kids. He'd never even _seen_ a child, much less spoken to one!

"Hm," the Olkari merely frowned, looking unconvinced, before they shrugged their shoulders, "-well, we need all the help we can get. I am Asri, and that one over there is Vasneir. We are the caretakers of these children."

He frowned, letting his gaze sweep over the aforementioned children. He recognized right away that none of them were Olkari- and in fact, they cut a diverse swath. "Whose children are they?"

"No one's." Asri replied. "Orphans, most of them. Swept up by the refugees and brought here."

Orphans. Something in his heart tugged at that. _He_ wasn't exactly an orphan, but it would be a cold day in hell before he considered that witch his mother, much as Shiro had joked about it. He guessed _technically_ she was, since he wouldn't exist without her, but as far as he was concerned, the less he had to do with her, the better.

The original had been, though.

"Right," Coran began, patting his shoulder, "-well, I'll leave x here with you while I attend to some business with Ryner. It'll only be a few vargas."

Opening his mouth to protest, he snapped it shut. Maybe he wasn't convinced this was a good idea, but if this was what Coran wanted him to do, it wasn't like he could say no. He couldn't just freeload around the Castle, giving back nothing in return.

Still... he didn't know about this.

* * *

Let the children come to him. That was what Asri had told him to do. As energetic as they were around their two caretakers, it would seem that the bulk of them were shy around strangers, which he guessed given what they had been through, made perfect sense.

But it just managed to make him feel awkward. With nothing else to do, he sat to one side of the room, watching everything that was going on, while also trying not to look like he was staring. Fiddling with the hem of his tunic, he chewed on his lip, watching out of the corner of his eye as one of the children caught his eyes and hurriedly looked away.

He tried not to let it get to him.

He looked away, staring down at his hands instead. He didn't know how he felt about being here. He was part Galra, and furthermore, it had been the Galra who made him- he couldn't deny his ties to the ones who had robbed all these kids of their parents and had forced them to flee their homes alone. He didn't know what Coran had been thinking.

Which... seemed to be something he and his not-memories were in agreement about. Keith's impression of Coran was... _enigmatic_ , at best. Out of everyone on the Castle, he was the one he knew the least about, so it was difficult to say just what was motivating the advisor.

A flash of something caught his eye, causing him to reflexively jerk his head up. He breathed a little when he realized it was just the same kid from before, thrusting what had to be a hairbrush in his general direction. She was humanoid with four eyes, long, spindly fingers, and was bright pink, with little blue spots here and there.

"Let me brush your hair!"

He blinked. He couldn't quite tell if that was a question or a demand.

"...okay?" He weakly agreed.

It was enough for the kid, who marched around behind him. He tensed a little, before he relaxed- this was a literal child. The worst she could do was pull his hair.

She ran her fingers through his hair, making a _tut_ of disapproval. It stung probably more than it should have. "Your hair's a mess!"

He didn't know what to say in response to that, so he just let the kid dig her fingers in his hair. She found one of the mats, and judging by the faint tugging he could feel, she had set herself to working it out. Her long fingers seemed tailor made for the job, working out the dead strands of hair that had gotten caught up in his hair until they formed clumps.

"I'm-" she began, promptly proceeding to let out a string of noises he could never possibly hope to repeat, "-but everyone here just calls me An. What's your name?"

He chewed on his lip. He was starting to hate that question. "X."

"That's a weird name." An muttered, tugging a bit at his hair. "Where are you from?"

How did he even answer that? He couldn't say Earth. He'd never even been there.

"I'm not really _from_ anywhere." He told her.

"Oh," she seemed to frown, "-you look like the paladins."

He stiffened at that. "I'm human?"

Sort of. Genetically. Even then, only half.

"Shouldn't you be from Earth?" An asked, and then she added, with great pride at her knowledge, "-I heard that's where the paladins are from."

"I was born on a spaceship." He told her. It wasn't exactly a lie. "This is my first time on a planet."

He didn't know why he had told her that part, it had just slipped out.

"Coming here was my first time on a spaceship!" An reported, sounding a little excited, only to very quickly deflate. "But I got separated from my mom. Mister Coran says that if I stay here, they'll find her eventually."

"I'm sorry." He replied, automatically. "I hope you find her."

She nodded, burying herself in her work. He chewed on his lip, wondering if he'd said the wrong thing. He probably had. Again, no experience with children.

An's efforts to untangle his hair inevitably attracted attention, two more of the children working their way over. One was hairless, and was probably just curious about his hair, with webbed fingers- they kind of reminded him of a frog, almost. The other had bright orange fur, with nubby little horns curving out of the back of their head.

They introduced themselves as _Yut_ and _Gerin_ , respectively. Said they wanted to help. Which, apparently, he had no say in the matter, since An gave them both permission for him.

Okay. This wasn't how he had planned to get the mats out, but okay. It kind of made him feel like he was employing child labor, but they seemed to be having fun somehow, so the most he could do was indulge the three of them.

He must have dozed off at some point, because Yut was tugging at his sleeve. Snapping his eyes open with a gasp, he glanced behind him, not failing to miss the way An seemed to preen. "I got them all out! You can thank me!"

" _Us_." Gerin corrected.

An glared, an especially fierce expression with four eyes. "I started it."

Sensing a fight, he briefly panicked. He had no idea how to deal with children fighting- he barely had any idea as how to deal with children, period. "Thank you? All of you?"

An frowned a bit, but otherwise just huffed. " _I_ get to brush it."

So she still had her heart set on that. Vaguely, he wondered how long it had been- it must have taken awhile to get all of the mats out, if he was going to be completely honest about the state of his hair. It hadn't exactly been a priority while he'd been held captive.

"I can brush it," An asked, sounding a bit hesitant, "-right?"

He blinked, then slowly nodded his head, watching as the girl brightened. Dimly, it occurred to him that he had made someone _happy_ , and just as quickly realized that he had no idea what to do with that. He'd never... as soon as Haggar realized that her plans weren't working out as well, _planned_ , she had essentially turned sour towards him.

But this... this made him feel good. He was pretty sure he liked it.

Gerin just grumbled. "Then what are we supposed to do?"

"We could talk." Yut meekly suggested. "You came in with Mister Coran... are you with the paladins?"

"I don't know about _with_." He frowned, wondering how the topic had gotten back to him again. "But they let me stay on the Castle."

"I've seen the Castle." Yut whispered.

"We've _all_ seen the Castle." Gerin rolled his eyes. "It's huge."

"Don't bully him!" An huffed from behind him.

"I'm not bullying!" Gerin protested. "It's just a dumb thing to say!"

Wondering how he had gotten in the middle of this, he fought back the urge to groan. He couldn't complain- at least this gave him something to do, even if he had just basically been sitting around the whole time. Gaze flickering over towards the direction of the pair of Olkari, he noticed that even with just three children distracted, they looked less hassled than they had when he had first arrived, so he guessed he must have at least been doing _some_ good.

"Do you know the paladins?" Yut spoke up, sounding just as eager as he was to not be involved in the middle of a fight. "You look like them."

He frowned a little at the choice of words. An had said it too- that he looked like _them_ , not that he looked like any of them in particular. Maybe they had just never seen Keith before?

"He's human!" An reported. "But he's never been to Earth."

"What's _Earth_?" Gerin asked.

"It's the paladin's home planet!" An chirped. "I know. Mister Coran told me so."

"They aren't _all_ from Earth," Gerin huffed, looking displeased that she knew something he didn't, "-there's the princess! She's from... from..."

"Altea!" Yut supplied, flinching a little as Gerin glared at him, clearly upset that he had effectively stolen his thunder.

"Yeah," Gerin said, "-Altea. I knew that."

He frowned, tilting his head, ignoring An's faint squawk of protest. "I don't think the princess is a paladin."

Gerin frowned, looking at him like he was an idiot. "Are you dumb? Of course she is! How can you live with them and not know that?"

He bristled at that, narrowing his eyes. "I've only been on the Castle for like, three days!"

Maybe he shouldn't be letting a child get him worked up, but listen- if he wanted to be extremely technical, he was probably the youngest person in this room. He was probably allowed at least a little immaturity.

"What's a _day_?" Yut asked.

"Quintant," he corrected himself, realizing his mistake- of course they wouldn't know what a _day_ is, "-it means quintant."

"Oh," Gerin said, "-I guess that makes sense. So you haven't met the paladins yet?"

"I- most of them." He told him. "Just not the red paladin."

"You haven't met the _princess_?" An asked, sounding personally offended.

For his part, he just felt something in his brain grind to a halt. The princess? Why was- _Keith_ was the red paladin, wasn't he? He didn't think any of his not-memories were incorrect, and if Haggar had really wanted him to replace the real Keith, he couldn't understand why she would make him misremember which lion he flew.

"Are you... are you sure that's the princess?" He asked, a bit hesitant.

"Un-huh." Gerin said. "She came to my planet and everything. She let me touch her lion, so I'm sure."

That- that didn't make any sense. Why would Allura be flying the red lion? According to what Shiro had told him, they had Keith back- with amnesia, but still. Had that somehow broken his bond with the red lion?

Except... it didn't sound like it was that simple. He had never exactly _seen_ any of the lions, not for himself- though he guessed he must have been flown in one, after Shiro freed him from that prison, he just didn't remember. But that didn't... that didn't sound right to him.

Had... had Shiro lied to him? But why would... what would doing that even _accomplish_?

He wanted to ask, but instead he kept silent. He couldn't ask a bunch of children weird questions. He could wait until Coran came back.

* * *

"Why, I see you've made yourself some friends!"

Giving Coran a dry look, he couldn't help but frown. An was halfway through putting his hair in another bun when Coran finally returned, after what felt like more than just a few vargas. The alien girl huffed when he tried to move, so instead he remained rooted to where he was so she could finish her work.

He was pretty sure twin buns was not a look that worked for him.

"Well, I'm all finished with my business, so I think it's high time we headed back to the Castle for lunch." Coran told him. "You've got a strict meal plan you need to follow, after all!"

"You're leaving?" Yut asked.

Looking over towards the boy, his frown deepened. He couldn't understand why these kids had seemingly attached themselves to him, but even if he drew on his not-memories, he couldn't recall a single time he'd seen a more disappointed face.

"Ah, he'll be back next week!" Coran chirped. "Isn't that right, x?"

Looking up towards the Altean, his brows knit together. He didn't like the fact that he was making decisions for him, but he just slowly nodded his head. Today hadn't been terrible, after all. "Sure."

It made the kids happy, at least. He ducked his head, shielding his eyes, too afraid of the face he might be making to show it to anyone else. He definitely wasn't used to this sort of thing.

"Okay, done!" An declared. "When you come again next time, I'll do something even more flashy!"

Her words were met with a certain sense of dread, wondering exactly what _flashy_ meant to her. But instead he just gave her a weak smile, hoping it looked even marginally convincing. "Uh... thanks."

If it wasn't, An didn't notice. Coran offered him a hand, but he refused it, hauling himself to his feet using the wall. His legs had gone a bit numb, but it was nothing that a bit of use couldn't resolve. The Altean man looked unbothered by the slight, merely tucking his hand back against his side without comment.

"Right then," Coran began, "-say goodbye everyone."

The children complied, waving eagerly. He lifted his hand in response, before he fell into step behind Coran. Sparing a curious glance towards the windows of the other classrooms, he wondered if the children inside were even more war orphans.

It was a disheartening thought.

It wasn't until they were back in the elevator, that he chanced asking Coran the question that had been burning in the back of his mind. "Can I... can I ask you a question, Coran?"

"Of course, my boy!" Coran assured him, beaming brightly. "Anything you like! Ah, except for the secret recipe I use to make the paladin lunch. I'm afraid that one's top secret."

He cringed- that was one thing he was _glad_ to not have experienced for himself. Just the memory of the smell alone was enough to make prison gruel seem like a delicacy.

"I heard something from one of the kids." He began, rubbing his fingers against the hem of his tunic. "They told me that Al- that the princess was the red paladin."

"Oh, sometimes." Coran hummed. "She flew it while Number Four was gone."

That made sense. It did, but... Gerin had made it sound more recent than that.

"Does... does she still fly it, sometimes?" He chanced.

"For the air shows, mainly." Coran informed him.

His brow furrowed at that. "Air shows?"

"The show of arms!" Coran declared, making a flexing motion that caused him to snort in spite of himself. "You laugh, but I'll have you know they're a great asset when it comes to gathering new members for the Coalition! In fact, that's what you'll be helping me with for the rest of the day!"

"The air shows?" He frowned.

"Sure!" Coran said. "Routine's getting a little stale. I was thinking of maybe doing something a little more personal, you know, get the paladins out of the lions, do a little meet and greet... the universe deserves to know who it is that's doing the saving!"

If he hadn't been looking up, he surely would have missed the slight crinkle to Coran's brow as he said that, like there was something weighing on his mind. "Well... what about Keith? Why doesn't he do the air shows?"

"Oh, there's reasons for that." Coran admitted. "But I'm not so sure if you're ready for those answers just yet."

It was more honesty than he had been expecting, even if it did nothing to assuage his confusion. Tilting his head, he studied the Altean man, but as expected, he couldn't read him.

"He's... he's alive, right?" He asked. "He's not-"

"Oh no!" Coran said hurriedly. "I assure you, Number Four's in top shape! Though he did stub his toe this morning, so perhaps he's actually only at about 99.9%, if I'm going to be perfectly honest."

He snorted again at that. At the very least, he didn't get the impression that Coran was lying to him. Keeping things from him, sure, but there had to be a reason for that.

Besides, it wasn't like he was entitled to information.

"Anything else you want to ask?" Coran inquired.

He considered it, but Coran's question was timed with the elevator opening, so he just shook his head. The Altean made a low hum, before bustling along, only slowing down when he caught up to his pace. He made sure to follow Coran- he was pretty sure if they got separated, he'd wind up lost in no time flat.

Keith had a sharp sense of direction, but he wasn't putting his bets on that applying to him.

They made their way back to the Castle. Once they were in the transport pod, he felt himself sigh. It was barely afternoon, and he was already exhausted.

Coran clearly noticed. "How about you head back to your room, and I'll send someone to bring you your lunch? Then you can take a nap, perhaps."

He frowned at that. "I said I'd help."

He... hadn't actually technically _said_ that, it was more of a silent agreement, but still.

"Ah, don't you worry about a thing!" Coran assured him. "I've been doing this job for some time now without any assistance, so a few vargas more won't make much of a difference."

He wasn't convinced, but he still nodded. They parted ways on his floor, and he slowly made his way back to his quarters, collapsing face first back into his bed. If it weren't for his stomach, he'd fall asleep right then and there.

Turning over, he stared at the ceiling. Today had been a lot of things, and it wasn't even over. Closing his eyes, he let out a long breath, wondering if it was really okay that it had almost been kind of _fun_. That had been his experience, and his experience alone- and even if Keith's memories were taken from him, that would still be something that was uniquely _his_.

Whoever _he_ was. If he was even anyone.

A knock at his door drew him out of his thoughts. Frowning, he pushed himself up, expecting whoever it was to come in. Normally they just left his food outside, but if Coran's visit this morning was an indication of a changing trend...

Sure enough, moments later, the door to his room slid open.

He tensed. He thought maybe it would be Hunk, or maybe even Shiro- but the masked figure that loomed in his doorway was neither of those. They weren't even human, or even Altean.

They were Galra.


	19. contact side

Phew! Finally got this one done! It was a struggle! I actually ended up having to change my plans for this chapter, devoting it pretty much solely to the "first contact" between Keith and his clone, so to speak. I had planned to push the plot forward a bit more with it but... that just wasn't coming out right and everything I did with that in mind just ended up feeling rushed, so I just slowed things way down a bit. I still feel weirdly kind of anxious about it, but that's probably just a Mood so, have at it, I guess!

Much like _roar of rebellion_ (regris, matt and shiro's sides) covered the first three episodes of season four, I plan to use this installment to cover the last three episodes of season four. I think there should probably more four more updates this time around, after this one, but I'm still not one hundred percent settled on that number. We'll have to see!

* * *

 **abyss of being**

 **contact side**

* * *

"Oh hey, Coran, you're back!"

Looking up from the purple goo he was mixing together, Kethe blinked. Last he'd heard, Coran was down on Olkarion, taking care of some business with Ryner. Something about finding a power source for the hospital that was located on the planet that the Blade of Marmora had just helped to liberate.

He hadn't been involved with that. He'd asked, but Kolivan had wanted him to remain here. It wasn't that he couldn't understand why- there had been the clone to worry about, but it still had been frustrating, especially since Voltron had basically been on hiatus ever since they found the clone on that prison satellite.

"Sorted things out with Ryner a bit faster than I thought!" Coran chirped. "I see Number Four is giving you a hand."

Hunk nodded, beaming. "The Uiru butter that we got from the last planet we liberated makes things a little hard to mix, and since Alteans apparently never even invented electric mixers," there was the faintest of barbs to that comment, but Coran didn't even so much as bristle at it, "-I needed someone who could do it by hand."

"Are you even sure this is going to taste good?" Kethe asked, doubt audible. "It turned the whole mixture purple. Not to mention hard."

"Trust me, if this goes according to plan, it's going to taste incredible." Hunk assured him. "But anyways, what brings you to the kitchen?"

"Lunch, actually!" Coran told him. "Not for me though, I've already eaten."

A look of understanding dawned across Hunk's face, causing Kethe to tilt his head. Had he missed something? "Oh, yeah, I get it. Yeah, it's on the top shelf of the fridge, first container on the left. Can't miss it."

"Can't miss what?" Kethe asked, setting down the mixing bowl.

"Huh?" Hunk blinked, before seeming to realize something. "Oh, right, you weren't at breakfast today, were you?"

Kethe nodded. He had gotten an early start, so he'd just grabbed a quick breakfast before hitting the training deck. Kolivan's visit yesterday reminded him that it had been awhile since he had actually trained with his blade- he'd mostly been using his bayard lately. He needed to be careful that he didn't get rusty.

He had been in there pretty much since Hunk had come to ask him for his help. He hadn't even changed out of his Blade armor yet, and he was almost positive that Kolivan would have a few choice words at seeing him in it while playing sous-chef to Hunk. Good thing he didn't have to know.

"Ah right, now that you mention it, you weren't." Coran said, tugging on one end of his mustache. "I suppose you didn't hear my announcement, then."

"Announcement?" Kethe asked. "What announcement?"

"Coran's looking after x." Hunk supplied.

X... the clone? He definitely hadn't heard about that.

"Thought it would be for the best, what with the rest of you being so busy!" Coran remarked.

Kethe just snorted, arching a brow. That wasn't the word he would have picked. "I wouldn't exactly call us busy."

"Not yet, but you will be!" Coran assured him, as if there was anything reassuring about being told that when they were in the middle of a centuries long war.

"See, when you put it like that, it just kind of sounds like a threat." Hunk pointed out. "Anyways, if you're going to bring x his food, tell him you know, that I said hello."

"Actually," Coran began, "-I was hoping that one of you paladins might bring it to him."

Lifting his head, Kethe exchanged a glance with Hunk. He looked just as uncertain as Kethe felt. "Us?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure he's avoiding us." Hunk agreed.

"Oh, likely he is." Coran acknowledged. "But I'm afraid if we leave him to his own devices, he'll never come out of his room. In fact, I'm rather positive he won't."

Hunk frowned. "I don't know, Coran. I'm not exactly wild about forced socialization. Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Oh, it'll only be in small doses." Coran told him. "Wouldn't want to scare the lad."

"Well... I guess if it's only a little." Hunk frowned. Wiping his hands on his apron, he turned around to fully face the Altean. "So, do you want me to take it up? I've got a few minutes between this and the next step."

"Yes, that would be-"

"I can take it."

He didn't even realize he'd opened his mouth until both Coran and Hunk were staring at him. Quickly shutting it, his brows pinched together in thought. Why had he just said that? He'd just blurted it out without a second thought, which... wasn't exactly not like him, but it still took him by surprise.

"Keith?" Hunk stared at him, visibly confused. "Are you sure? Because you're kind of uh..."

"-Galra?" Kethe finished. Hunk winced, but he didn't pay it any mind. He was right. Him being Galra was a problem in and of itself, even without the fact that he was also Keith Kogane, the one person the clone could probably stand to go without meeting for awhile, at least until they had somewhat established themselves.

Which... yeah, was a pretty big factor on its own. But the Galra thing was also up there.

"I did tell him about the Blade of Marmora," Coran mused, stroking his mustache, "-though only in passing. I don't know if he'll actually remember."

"And there's, you know..." Hunk trailed off, gesturing at his own face, "-the face thing."

Kethe snorted, his tail twitching in amusement behind him. "The face thing?"

Hunk just locked eyes with him, challenging him to say anything back to him. "Yes, the face thing."

Hanging his head, Kethe didn't fight the urge to grin. He should probably feel tense, given what he had just put on the table, but he didn't. Maybe it was just because feeling tense around Hunk was actually pretty difficult. Or _any_ of the paladins, really- he'd gotten pretty used to everyone on the Castle, and the affirmation of knowing that they would have accepted him even if he were some kind of imposter... well, it had pretty much cemented this as a place that he could call home, and as people he could call family.

Maybe it was just because he only had half a deca-phoeb worth of memories, or maybe it was something deeper, more intrinsic, but he couldn't shake the feeling that _family_ was something he had been chasing for a long time. Maybe had even given up on. He couldn't know for sure.

He wondered how the clone felt about family. If he wanted it. _Wished_ for it. Or if he was afraid of it. Afraid that if he got too close, he might only get burned.

He could understand that feeling. He'd gone through the same thing.

In the clone... in the clone, it was probably worse. He had spent a lot of the past few quintants trying to put himself in the clone's shoes. The time when he'd been worried that he was some kind of clone wasn't that long ago, but even if that had once been a valid concern of his, their situations were different.

He didn't have memories that weren't his own. He barely had memories at all. And not having and having memories that weren't yours were two entirely different problems. Equating the two was impossible. He'd thought about discussing the matter with the other paladins, or maybe with Regris, but when it boiled down to it... it wasn't something they could understand, either of them.

They would try. There was no doubt about that. But this felt like the kind of answer he needed to reach by himself. That was one place where he felt like he and the clone might be in agreement, even without having met him. There were just some things that had to be done by yourself, or nothing would ever change.

"It may work." Coran said, snapping him back to reality.

"I don't know." Hunk frowned. "I mean... x _is_ Keith's clone. I don't think a little purple fur is enough to prevent him from recognizing the face he sees in the mirror everyday."

"He doesn't have to see my face." Kethe stated.

"Mm, true." Hunk agreed, gaze flickering downwards to his Blade armor. Guess he'd kind of forgotten he had it on. "I guess that _would_ make it harder. Although Shiro did kind of realize it was you even with your mask up, so..."

"That was only after I flew the red lion." Kethe pointed out. "Look, the point is, I can't avoid him forever. And... I think I kind of want to meet him."

That point he wasn't too sure about, but he'd just have to trust in his instincts. They hadn't exactly let him down yet.

"Well," Coran frowned, considering it, "-I suppose it wouldn't hurt. Provided you keep it brief. In and out."

"In and out." Kethe echoed, nodding.

"Yeah, okay, I guess." Hunk said. "If that's what you want to do."

"I do." Kethe stated.

Probably.

Hunk just heaved a sigh, before giving him a small smile. "So I guess I better heat up that broth, huh?"

"Not too hot." Coran advised. "I think our guest has a bit of a... what was it that Lance called it? Something to do with a tongue?"

"Cat." Hunk told him, fishing the container out of the fridge. "The word you're looking for is cat. And I kind of figured. Keith has one too. Maybe it's some kind of Galra thing?"

Kethe tilted his head, considering it. He wasn't _wrong_ , but... "Regris is fine with hot foods."

"Yeah, but Regris is like, a lizard." Hunk pointed out.

"I don't believe Zarkon ever had trouble with hot foods back in the day." Coran considered. "But I _do_ seem to recall one of his royal guards having trouble with the stuff. Perhaps you're on to something, Hunk."

"Great," Kethe quipped, "-now we know we can defeat the Galra Empire by burning their tongues. That'll come in handy with Lotor."

Hunk snorted, trying to stifle his laughter and failing. He wondered what he was picturing.

Watching with mild interest as Hunk heated up the broth, mixing bowl forgotten, Kethe got to his feet. Frowning, he glanced behind him, and after a moment's consideration, removed his knife's sheath from his belt, setting it down on the table. Catching his eye, Coran raised a brow in interest.

"Just... thought I should probably leave this here." Kethe told him.

"Ah, good call." Coran agreed.

"Well, I'm done here, so," Hunk said, taking the broth off the heat and carefully scooping it into a bowl, "-any time you're ready."

Grabbing some utensils from the drawer, he placed it on the tray next to the bowl. "Thanks, Hunk. I'll tell him you said hi."

"Aw, thanks buddy." Hunk said. "Good luck."

Giving him a grateful nod, he let his mask flicker into place, pulling up his hood before picking up the tray. Balancing it wasn't that difficult, but it probably would have been impossible for him within his first three phoebs of freedom or so. He considered himself lucky not to remember most of his time as a prisoner- a luxury which the clone didn't have.

At least the clone wouldn't be plagued with nightmares about nothing.

The clone's physical challenges... those he understood a little better. He wasn't in half as bad a shape as the clone had been when he'd first been brought to the Castle, but he'd still been pretty malnourished when Ulaz rescued him. According to what he had heard from Pidge, while he might not look like death warmed over anymore, the clone still didn't exactly look like the picture of perfect health.

Making his way to the clone's room, he stopped just outside the elevator on his floor. Biting down on his lip, for a brief second he entertained the thought that maybe this _wasn't_ a good idea- before he pushed it aside. Maybe it wasn't, but he'd already resolved to do this, so he couldn't just back out now. That wasn't the Galra way.

Victory or death.

(Though hopefully no one would need to die in this situation.)

* * *

It took him a few moments to remember how to breathe.

Once he did, he slowly exhaled. Right. Coran had mentioned something about this. That there was some group of renegade Galra that Voltron had forged an alliance with. He hadn't really been listening.

This was probably one of them.

He swore the Galra swallowed, before taking an almost halting step inside. It was impossible to tell with the mask, the glowing eyeholes almost eerie in the darkened room.

"Coran asked me to bring you this."

Slowly nodding, he had to remind himself to breathe again. The Galra's voice was distorted, probably because of the mask, which he had to wonder about. Maybe they just didn't want to show their face to a cloned half-breed.

That was what he would normally assume, but something about that explanation just didn't sit right with him, not about this. Still, he was used to it- most of the guards at the prison also had masks, although those had left the lower halves of their faces exposed. This one didn't.

He couldn't decide if it bothered him or not.

Realizing that the Galra was probably waiting for an answer, he swallowed. He was clearly nervous, but he swore that the Galra was feeling the same way- maybe it was the tail, tucked nearly in between their legs, that made him think that.

"Thanks," he said slowly, almost cautiously, "-just set it down."

The Galra seemed to hesitate, before giving a curt, almost stiff nod. Setting the tray down on the table, they slowly backed away. It kind of reminded him of a deer caught in headlights, and for some reason, that thought put him a bit more at ease.

He didn't know why the _Galra_ was nervous, but maybe they had just heard about his history. Maybe they were just being cautious. He couldn't think why- but then again, if these were Galra that Princess Allura had chosen to forge an alliance with, maybe they weren't the same as the Galra who had been on the prison satellite, or the ones that Haggar had kept around.

Except he didn't even know if those _were_ Galra. All he knew was that they were called druids, and that they had given him the creeps.

"So uh," the Galra began, "-if that's all, I'll just..."

He motioned towards the door in a gesture that he recognized to mean _go_. It was such a human gesture that it caught him completely off guard. Maybe they'd picked it up from one of the paladins.

Swallowing, he just gave the Galra a quick nod. For a second, he feared it was too eager, but if it was, the Galra either didn't seem to notice, or didn't seem to care.

In spite of what they said, the Galra lingered for a moment longer, before almost seeming to startle out of a daze. He took the moment to study them- they weren't very tall for a Galra, maybe just a little shorter than the yellow paladin. What caught his attention the most was the thick coil of black fur, twined around his shoulder in a braid.

He had never seen a Galra with black fur before. Even his own hair was more tinted purple, but that seemed to be unique to him. Keith's had just been plain black. He wondered if it were some kind of error- if it was, it wouldn't surprise him. The physical proof that he was a failed product outweighed the relief that the slight deviance from his source material brought him.

The Galra slowly began to head for the door, not quite taking their eyes off of him- the way their gaze remained so fixed fell just short of making his skin crawl. Not that he could exactly blame him- at least _someone_ on this ship was properly suspicious of him.

Except... suspicion didn't feel quite right. It was weird. He didn't know why he felt so certain of that. He just knew that he did.

They paused, just outside of the door, as if something had occurred to him. "Oh, uh... Hunk told me to tell you that he said hi."

He blinked, more at the casual use of the yellow paladin's name than anything. Just like the gesture, it caught him off guard, unexpected from some masked Galra whose face he couldn't even see. It sounded almost like he was _familiar_ with the yellow paladin, in a way that was deeper than he would if he believed that the memories in his head were really his.

Guess maybe he'd been around the paladins for awhile. That probably explained why they seemed kind of human.

Dimly aware that the Galra was again, waiting for some kind of a response, he started. What should he say? Should he tell him that he said hi back? That kind of felt like he was overstepping his bounds- it wasn't like they were friends, but Hunk had been the one to send the message first, so...

"...tell him I said hi back?" He meekly asked.

That got another curt nod from the Galra. "I'll pass it along."

They left just as abruptly as they had arrived, and it was only after they were gone that he realized he hadn't gotten their name. Chewing on his lip, he stared at the tray of food, unsure why it bothered him- he could probably just ask Coran later, since he'd been the one to send the Galra up.

Letting out a long breath, he allowed his shoulders to slump even as he got to his feet. Ducking into the bathroom to wash his hands, he glanced up without thinking, not averting his gaze quick enough to avoid looking in the mirror.

Maybe he should just- wait.

Lifting his head, he chanced another look at his reflection- and promptly sucked in his breath. The bright red of his cheeks had nothing to do with his first exposure ever to the sun, and a lot more to do with the dawning realization that he hadn't taken his hair out of the twin buns that An had tied it into yet.

And the Galra had seen him like this.

 _Embarrassment_ was a new emotion for him, and he automatically decided he hated it.

* * *

"So... how'd it go?"

Exhaling, Kethe slumped back into his chair. Not only had Hunk and Coran waited for him, but at some point, Pidge had not only turned up but also decided to stick around. Judging from the unmasked curiosity on her face, he was going to say that someone had told her what was going on. Probably Hunk.

"I told him you said hi." He responded weakly.

"Oh hey, that's great!" Hunk beamed, before his smile faltered. "That's... that's good, right?"

Kethe just shrugged, finally letting his mask dissolve. He kept his hood up for the moment. He was kind of glad he was already in Blade armor- there was just something about it that made him feel secure. Which... yeah, it was armor, it was kind of _meant_ to do that, but the feeling of security... he didn't know. He just knew it came from somewhere else.

"Maybe?" He said, knowing how uncertain he sounded. "He said hi back, after like, a few ticks."

"I still can't believe you just went to see him like that." Pidge said, leaning across the table. "So? How was he?"

"He was... fine, I guess?" Kethe frowned. "Honestly, I'm still kind of trying to process it."

"But he did take the food, right?" Hunk asked.

Again, Kethe just shrugged. "I put it down on the desk. Didn't exactly stick around to see if he ate it."

"Oh, I imagine he'll probably eat it." Coran observed. "No offense Number Four, but if I thought he might not, I would never have let you bring it to him."

He just gave Coran a weak smile. "Fair enough."

"So... did he recognize you?" Pidge pressed.

"I don't think so." Kethe said after a moment. He actually did have to think about it. _Had_ he recognized him?

Sinking into his chair a bit, he draped his tail into his lap, toying with its tuft. It was calming, and he could use a bit of calm right now. Meeting his own clone hadn't been the _worst_ experience he'd ever gone through- at least, not that he could remember- but it had been... honestly, _awkward_ didn't seem like a strong enough word, but it was also the only word that he could think of.

So. Awkward.

He'd been stiff. He knew it. He hoped that maybe he'd just come across as stoic, but he doubted it. He just knew that he had never been more grateful for the anonymity that his Blade armor granted him. That was, the clone didn't have to see just how nervous he actually was.

Provided he hadn't noticed his tail. Which he was pretty sure he had. Damnit.

"Oh, I think if he recognized you, you would have known." Coran assured him.

"Yeah, pretty sure he would have said something if he had." Hunk agreed. "Do we even know if he knows he's Galra yet? Did you ask?"

"I'm afraid not, Number Two." Coran replied. "I plan on trying to find that out, but I want to ease him into the subject first."

"In that case, sending Keith up might have actually helped." Pidge reasoned. "He already has the fact that Haggar made him against him, so it's hard to imagine he'd been willing to volunteer information that might potentially make him look even worse to us. He's probably going to be more open about being part Galra if he knows there's Galra out there who are working with us."

"You know, _if_ he knows." Hunk added.

The pair glanced in his direction, causing Kethe to blink. With a slight frown, he just shrugged. "Don't ask me."

He didn't have the answer to that. For all he knew, he might have known that he was part Galra from the very beginning, and had just kept it to himself. He had no way of knowing.

"No vague impressions?" Pidge questioned. "Nothing coming back to you?"

Kethe just shook his head. "Nothing. Sorry."

"Ah, no need to apologize." Coran stated. "I'm pretty sure that's not how it works anyways."

"Probably." Kethe agreed, absently picking up his abandoned sheath from the table. Resting it in his lap, his tail flicked out of the way.

From the way Allura described it, it kind of sounded like Haggar had just ripped his memories right out of him and stuffed them into the clone. He harbored a suspicion that some of his memories might have just been completely erased, because he sure as heck didn't remember going from looking human to looking almost completely Galra.

And based on his reaction, he was willing to bet the clone didn't either.

Just thinking about it made a shiver run down his spine. If she really wanted, Haggar could have just erased him completely. He should probably consider himself lucky that her plans had been a little more complex than that.

Granted, he didn't know if he even _wanted_ his memories back. He did, and he didn't. It was complicated. He'd come to terms with the fact that he didn't have an easy answer. Anyways, it wouldn't even matter unless Allura figured out a way to do it. And from the sound of it, she wasn't exactly having much luck.

"Well, he definitely inherited your evasiveness." Pidge remarked.

Kethe just snorted, recognizing it for the joke it was. "Hey, that's not on me."

Pidge just rolled her eyes. "You can't just pin everything on past Keith."

Arching a brow, he leaned back in his chair. "Just try and stop me."

Making a noise of vague disgust, Pidge crinkled her nose. "Has Lance been teaching you more weird phrases again? I'm starting to think we need to run an intervention."

"At least he didn't mangle this one." Hunk observed.

Frowning, Kethe shot a hooded glare in Hunk's direction. He didn't mangle Earth sayings _that_ much, did he? Maybe sometimes, but...

"Well, if that's all you have to report Number Four," Coran interrupted, "-I'll be on my way. Lots to do!"

Giving the Altean a faint smile, Kethe nodded. "Yeah, that's all."

"Do you need any help?" Pidge asked. "I'm _dying_ to find out what kind of power system Ryner came up with. It has to be incredible."

"Oh, it's something alright." Coran remarked- and he got the feeling he was just barely holding himself back from going into thorough detail about the system in question. "I was under the impression you were quite occupied, though. What with Regris' tail and all."

Pidge just grumbled. "Matt and I have had to take the design completely back to the drawing board, so I'm kind of taking a break from it to recharge."

"Yup, same here." Hunk agreed. "Shiro's prosthetic makes it look so easy, but let me tell you, it's not. It is totally not."

"Always good to take a break when you've hit a bit of a wall." Coran said. "I would be glad to have your help, Number Five."

"Maybe I could ask Kolivan if some of Ulaz's notes are still around?" Kethe ventured. Bringing up Ulaz still stung, though not quite as much as it had in the past. It almost made him feel guilty, like he was forgetting about him- even if he knew that wasn't true. "Haggar had a lot of input, but he's the one who pretty much designed Shiro's arm."

"Could you?" Pidge asked. "It'd be a _huge_ help. I swear, Ulaz had to be a _genius_ or something."

In spite of himself, Kethe beamed with pride at the praise. The paladins might have only known Ulaz for a short time, but it was nice to know that they had appreciated him just as much as he did. He understood why- without Ulaz, none of them would be here right now.

That went for him twice.

"I'll see what I can do." Kethe said. "At least maybe that way we can prevent a repeat of your second prototype."

"Keith!" Pidge squeaked. "I thought we were never going to mention that one again!"

"You have to admit, it was pretty funny." Hunk said.

"Tell that to _Regris_." Pidge grumbled, shooting the yellow paladin a sour look. "I'm pretty sure he was mad at me for weeks after that."

Chuckling, Kethe didn't have the heart to tell her that Regris had gotten over it within the same quintant, and that the movement he had spent avoiding her had mostly been because he thought her efforts to appease him were entertaining. That was _probably_ something he should keep to himself.

"Don't worry," he said instead, "-I'm sure he's over it."

Pidge just squinted at him. He had to fight not to twitch underneath her gaze. His Marmora training hadn't exactly prepared him for her sharp glare, but it sure helped.

"Come along Number Five." Coran called out- and he didn't fight the urge to let out a breath of relief once Pidge followed behind him.

Eyeing him, Hunk arched a brow. "Regris was never actually mad at her, was he?"

"Not really." Kethe confessed. "But we should probably keep that just between us."

"Yep, yep, agreed." Hunk said, nodding his head. "So... you're okay, right?"

Blinking, Kethe looked up at him. It wasn't that he didn't understand the concern, but somehow, the paladins asking after his well being still managed to catch him off guard. He would have thought he'd be kind of used to it by now. "I- yeah, I'm fine. Really."

Hunk smiled. "Just wanted to make sure."

Yeah, he knew.

"So... how was it?" Hunk asked. "I mean, you met your own clone."

Letting out a huff, Kethe closed his eyes, resting his head against the back of his chair. "Weird. It was weird."

Hunk hummed. "So was it better or worse that he doesn't look exactly like you?"

"Honestly?" Kethe asked, cracking open an eye. "No clue."

He really didn't know. It was strange. He couldn't put it into words just yet. He'd need more time to try and actually process what he was feeling right now. All he knew was that there was a disconnect- he still didn't even know if that made it easier or harder for him to deal with the fact that he had a clone running around.

It was just... there.

"Fair enough." Hunk said. "But remember-"

"-I can talk to you if I need to?" Kethe finished. "I know, Hunk."

"Okay," Hunk shrugged, "-just making sure you remembered."

Like he could forget. He didn't even think the other paladins knew how much their support meant to him. How much _they_ meant to him.

Staring down at his blade, he turned it over in his hands. If he could do nothing else, then he could at least ensure that they made it through this war. To bring them back to Earth- their true home.

He wouldn't fail.


	20. orange side

Ah yes, the next chapter! Also known as the one where I let them go to Clear Day early and enjoy themselves because they have a tough fight ahead of them and they all deserve to have a little fun. Also because generally speaking, the Voltron Show is like, my least favorite episode, so if I am given the power to cancel it in its entirety, then I can, and I will, and no one can stop me (nor should they).

* * *

 **abyss of being**

 **orange side**

* * *

It was a good thing he was a light sleeper, otherwise he probably would have slept right through the knock on his door. He wasn't sure how long he had slept- his rest had been fitful, but he was used to that. He'd expected it to come easier now that he had an actual _bed_ , but he guessed after months of sleeping on the floor without so much as a blanket, it wasn't an easy adjustment to make.

Hauling himself out of bed, he paused to double check his hair. He was pretty sure he had remembered to take it out of the buns this time, but just in case...

Okay. Good. No potentially embarrassing hairstyle.

Whoever was at the door knocked again, more impatient this time. He frowned. Something told him this wasn't Coran.

The thought was enough to make him briefly hesitate to answer, before he sucked in a long breath, and pressed his hand against the panel. For a second, he didn't see anyone, before his eyes instinctively looked down, falling on a mop of light brown hair.

Oh. The green paladin.

First a Blade of Marmora, and now a paladin. Coran was doing this on purpose, he realized.

The green paladin- _Pidge_ \- looked up at him, her expression hard to gauge- or maybe he was just bad at it. "Coran sent me to come get you."

It took him a second to sort his thoughts, but he gave her a curt nod. "About the air shows, right?"

He swore Pidge grimaced. "I _wish_ it were about the air shows. Coran apparently has this idea in his head that we should do meet and greets."

The _we_ was so casual, he nearly forgot it didn't apply to him. Tilting his head, he studied the green paladin. She seemed a little annoyed, but not at him, which he took as a good sign. They had met once before, in the kitchen, but that had been the limit thus far of their interactions.

That was the way he had been intending to keep it. But apparently, Coran had guessed as much, and was already taking steps to circumvent it.

Fine. If that was how it was going to be, he guessed he could just suck it up. The last thing he wanted to be was a burden. If they intended to keep him here, on the castle-ship, then he could at least try to be useful- and well, polite, he guessed.

Not that he had any experience with being _polite_. _Compliant_ , but that was... that was different. His not-memories didn't give him a lot to go off of either. Keith was aware of human social customs, but mostly he just seemed to ignore them.

He wondered if it was because he was half-Galra. Like some kind of instinct. Or maybe it was just the circumstances of his childhood. He might have the memories, but he still didn't have the answer to that question.

"Oh," he finally said, after what he knew had to be an awkward pause of silence, "-I take it you don't want to?"

"That's more of Lance's thing." Pidge snorted. "Although, and don't tell him I said this, Shiro's been known to showboat a bit himself."

He just arched a brow. That seemed to fit with what his not-memories told him, but he didn't know how the black paladin could even do that without somehow being aware of it. But then, there was a lot he didn't understand- just having memories meant nothing if he had never actually experienced them for himself. The longer he spent here, the more he began to understand that.

The feeling of sun on his face, of a light breeze blowing through his hair... these were things he had never experienced for himself. They were in his not-memories, but what was there failed to live up to the actual experience. Not to mention the food- even if he knew that Hunk was probably holding back on the flavor for the sake of his recovery, the food was better than he ever could have imagined.

It made him wish... he didn't know. That it didn't have to be like this. Not that he believed those memories were _his_ , but just... that he was normal. Someone _born_ , rather than someone who had been created in a lab.

He pushed the thought aside. He _had_ been created in a lab, and he couldn't change that. Longing for something that was impossible wouldn't fix anything- all it would do was hurt. And he'd had enough hurt already.

"I won't say anything." He said. "Promise."

"Good, because I'm holding you to that." Pidge grinned, and the expression took him aback. "Now come on. I need your help to convince Coran out of trying to play the role of damsel in distress."

He blinked, but quickly followed after her. She lead him to what his not-memories informed him was the record room, where Coran had a variety of monitors up, playing out scenes from past battles. A few of them he recognized, others he didn't.

"Ah, x!" Coran chirped. "Good to see you again. I trust you rested well."

"Yeah," he lied, "-just fine. What's all this?"

"Oh, just going over some past footage." Coran told him. "Looking for a bit of inspiration, as it were. Can't have the shows getting stale!"

Pidge just rolled her eyes. "Coran, the air shows aren't for entertainment value."

"Ah, but in a sense, they are!" Coran said. "Why, on the planets you paladins have personally visited thus far, there has been a marked uptick in people who have wanted to join the Coalition. Shiro just talked to me about it!"

"The Coalition?" He asked, tilting his head.

"Yes, the Coalition!" Coran echoed. "A joining of forces, dedicated to the defeat of Zarkon and the Galra Empire, all with the backing and support of Voltron, of course."

Huh. It sounded like in the months since Keith had been captured, and he had been created, Voltron had really gone up in the world. He'd gotten a pretty sound impression of it on Olkarion, but it was another thing to actually hear it. According to his not-memories, the last allies they had gained were the Balmerans- and besides them, they only had the Arusians.

Guess things had changed.

It was a weird thought for him to have. But he couldn't help having it.

Pidge just looked unconvinced. "I mean... if you say so. But don't blame me if this show of yours bombs."

"Oh, don't be so negative!" Coran said. "It'll be fine, I promise."

Shrugging her shoulders, Pidge glanced up at him. "Guess I'll leave things to you. I should probably be getting back to working on Regris' prosthetic."

Blinking, he slowly nodded his head. Watching Pidge go, he looked back towards Coran, a slight frown on his face. "Who's Regris?"

"He's a member of the Blade of Marmora." Coran informed him. "Our liaison, so to speak."

Oh. That made sense. Maybe he was the Galra that had brought him his lunch? Except he didn't look like he needed any kind of prosthetic, unless Pidge was referring to upgrades of some kind. He kind of wanted to ask, but Coran looked pretty busy, so he didn't want to interrupt with too many questions.

"So... what can I do to help?" He asked instead.

Coran gave him a faint smile. "Why don't you start by checking the calendar? We should probably double check to make sure everything is in order. I've already got the current day and time marked, so hopefully it shouldn't be too confusing."

Nodding, he slid into one of the chairs. Sure enough, the current day was marked, so it wasn't too hard to make heads or tails of the calendar, even though he wasn't exactly familiar with Altean timekeeping outside what of a deca-phoeb and a tick were. Glancing over towards Coran, he watched him study the footage.

Air shows. He bit his lip, recalling how Coran had told him that it was the princess who flew the red lion during them. That Keith didn't do them for some reason.

That was... strange. Granted, he had a hard time picturing the Keith of his not-memories going along with something as frivolous sounding as an _air show_ , but he also had a tough time picturing him outright refusing to do them. Maybe... maybe he'd been disfigured, somehow? Galra prisons were rough. He'd know.

Maybe that was what Coran was trying to keep from him. Touching his cheek, he frowned. He knew he looked worse for wear, but all of it was ultimately superficial- stuff that could be fixed with time. Maybe... maybe Keith wasn't that lucky.

That _would_ probably make it hard to look at him, he thought. Even more than it normally would. Seeing his face, unmarred by any scars or burns, or whatever it was that had happened to him, had to be difficult. He knew from what his not-memories told him that the healing pods were great, but they weren't perfect- they couldn't fix everything.

"Well," Coran piped up, snapping him out of his thoughts with a jolt, "-how do things look? I think I accounted for time dilation correctly between the different planets, but I'll be honest, my math's a bit shaky."

Realizing that he had barely even looked over the calendar, he quickly scanned it. "Uh... it looks fine, I guess?"

Leaning closer, his brows furrowed. Actually... something seemed kind of off. Glancing nervously back towards Coran, he wondered if he should even bring it up. He wasn't anything like the guards at the prison, but just the thought of trying to correct him had his stomach doing belly flops.

Coran seemed to notice. "Something wrong?"

Quickly shaking his head, his gaze darted to the floor. "No. Everything's fine."

Coran watched him for a moment longer, before heaving a sigh. He flinched a little at it, wondering if he'd disappointed him somehow. He still remembered the look of disappointment on the witch's face when she realized just how flawed he was, before it had morphed into one of disgust and rejection. It stung. It _still_ stung, even though he now viewed that same rejection as a good thing.

He shouldn't be like this, he knew. He should be more... he didn't know actually, what he _should_ be like. Everything that told him he shouldn't be like this came from his not-memories, of someone who definitely looked like him, and maybe even acted like him, but wasn't him. Who was to say he _wasn't_ supposed to be like this?

Who was to say he was supposed to be like anything? He was a clone, just a tool to be used, and not even a very good one at that. He wasn't even sure if he was allowed to form his own personality, have his own independent thoughts.

He wanted to. That he was sure of. He just didn't know how. It was hard to tell where the influence from Keith ended, and he began. Anything that did seem like him was probably just because of the trauma, and he wasn't sure that he wanted a personality formed by that. But he also didn't know if there was anything he could do to change it.

Maybe this was just him. Maybe he was just stuck like this, for the rest of his life. Indecisive, skittish, and paranoid- a real winner.

"You know," Coran began, "-if I got something wrong, you're more than welcome to tell me. That's why I asked, you know."

Slowly turning his gaze upwards towards Coran, the Altean gave him a soft smile. "I, uh... I'm not sure, actually. I just think something's off."

Coran took his words into consideration, making a low hum as leaned down to take a look himself. "Ah, yes, you're right, actually. Seems like I didn't quite account for time dilation as well as I thought. Why, if I'd gone with this schedule, we would have completely missed Clear Day!"

"Clear... Day?" He asked, puzzled.

"Why, it's the one day of the year planet Drazan has clear skies!" Coran informed him. "Oh, it's quite something too. They put on a big celebration. People from all across the galaxy come! It's the perfect chance for Voltron to spread their message."

"Sounds... fun?" He guessed.

He didn't exactly know much about celebrations, much less _big_ ones. He knew they had them on Earth, but they tended to be the kind of thing that Keith had avoided.

"Oh, it's a real riot!" Coran assured him. "And if you hadn't said something, we might very well have missed it. So good job, catching that!"

He blinked, ducking his head. All he had said was that something felt off. Coran was the one who had determined what the problem was. He hadn't exactly done anything to earn thanks. But still... being thanked felt good. Like it was something he could get used to.

Was... was that okay?

Was it okay for him to get used this? To this... this _kindness_ , this warm, casual atmosphere. To the idea that maybe, he was allowed to be included in things.

He didn't know. He didn't feel comfortable with the idea yet. The last thing he wanted to do was to get his hopes up, only to be let down. There were too many instances of that happening in his not-memories, and he wasn't sure it was something that he personally wanted to experience.

Besides- this wasn't his place. It was Keith's. These were _Keith's_ friends, his fellow paladins. He was just someone who had the same face as him.

Finding his own place in the universe sounded... nice. He just wasn't sure it could- or _should_ \- be here.

* * *

 _Day off_ and _air show_ were already like magic words to him. When they were said in the same sentence? Twice as magic.

Really, the only downer about today was that he wouldn't be able to take Allura around the carnival, which was kind of what he had been hoping to do ever since he first heard about it. He'd had a whole plan, in fact- maybe show off a few of his sharpshooting skills, win her something nice and sparkly, and then end the evening by sweeping her off her feet... somehow. He still didn't have that last part locked down, he just figured he'd figure it out by the time this _Clear Day_ actually came.

But no. Allura had important leadership duties to attend to. She'd be coming to the carnival, but she'd be coming to it with like, a half hour to spare before the actual air show that was supposed to be its big finale. She should use that time to look around herself, not be dragged around by him.

Besides, he could still win her something sparkly.

Pidge had already gone on ahead. She'd dragged Matt with her, and somehow had even managed to convince Keith to join. He snorted at the thought. Keith? At a carnival? Even if he wasn't currently covered in purple fur, it was still a hilarious image. There was no way Keith could ever _possibly_ have fun at a carnival.

Actually, speaking of he who was formerly of the mullet...

"You think we should invite him?"

"Uh," Hunk blinked, "-invite who?"

"You know," Lance frowned, "-the clone. X, or whatever it is he wants to call himself."

Ugh. They seriously had to get a better name for the guy. Sure, _x_ was cool for like, some sort of super secret spy codename, but as an actual name? It sucked. It sucked big time.

Not that he'd even seen the guy since like, that one time in the kitchen, and that was a full week ago now. In fact, he was pretty sure that outside of Pidge and surprisingly enough, _Keith_ , none of them had seen him since then. He knew that Coran was supposed to be looking after him, but the dude was more like a ghost than a clone at this point.

"I dunno, Lance," Hunk frowned, "-this doesn't seem like his kind of thing."

"Yeah, well it doesn't seem like Keith's kind of thing either, and somehow Pidge managed to talk his Galra butt into going." Lance pointed out. "Look, I'm not saying we drag the guy out of his room, but we could at least _ask_."

Hunk considered it. "Mm. Yeah, I guess you're right. Asking wouldn't hurt."

"Great!" Lance beamed. "So it's agreed."

Sure, he was pretty sure he'd be like, the ultimate wet blanket. But hey- if the dude was ever going to grow a personality of his own or whatever, he had to leave his room sometime.

Besides. This wasn't Keith they were talking about. It was his clone. So who knew? Maybe he'd actually have a fun time.

Knocking on x's door, Lance shifted on his feet. After what felt like a few seconds too long, it finally slid open, x blinking in the light of the hallway. "...can I help you?"

"So uh," Lance began, "-Hunk and I were just thinking about heading down to enjoy the Clear Day festivities. You know, day off and all that."

"Yeah, yeah," Hunk nodded, "-thought we might drop by, see if you wanted to come with us."

X blinked. Then blinked again, before furrowing his brow. If this were Keith, he'd say he was probably trying to stare them to death, but it wasn't, so he was probably just confused. "...me?"

"Uh, yeah you." Lance said, arching a brow. "There anybody else here?"

X actually had the audacity to check behind him. Which, okay- he'd admit it. That was actually pretty funny. He definitely hadn't meant it as a joke though, which was the only thing that kept Lance from laughing.

"I mean... you don't have to come if you don't want to." Hunk quickly added. "We just thought, you know... it might be nice."

"I don't know if I should." X frowned. "I've never been to a carnival before."

Lance fought the urge to groan. Maybe he did still have stuff in common with Keith after all, because that was exactly the kind of thing he would have said. "That's just more reason you should go. I mean, sure, I've been to carnivals before, but I've never been to _alien_ carnival before. It's our first time too!"

X's frown only deepened. "Well... sure. But I've never-"

"-been to one period. We know." Lance cut him off, ignoring the sharp look that earned him from Hunk. "Look, even _Keith_ is going, and he's about as much of a killjoy as you can get."

"He's not _that_ much of killjoy." Hunk muttered.

At the mention of Keith, x actually looked a bit interested. "Well..."

"I mean, you don't have to come if you don't want to, like I said." Hunk hurriedly interjected. "But we'd like you to."

X stared at them, like he didn't know what to make of that statement. "Are you sure? I don't want to get in the way of your fun."

Lance just snorted. "Dude, if we thought that, we wouldn't have invited you."

Well, okay. So he did kind of think that. But he was just trying to be nice. In hindsight, he'd been pretty awful to Keith during their time at the Garrison, and while sure, maybe Keith hadn't actually been a ray of sunshine and niceness either, he still felt bad about it. He'd literally _celebrated_ him getting kicked out of the Garrison, for Pete's sake!

This was his chance to make up for that, even if the clone wasn't _actually_ Keith. He had his memories, at least, which was more than he could say about the actual Keith. Heck, he was pretty sure the actual Keith didn't even remember that he had anything to be mad at him about, which was both great and kind of annoying- how could you make something up to a guy who didn't even remember you had something to make up for?

Being nice to the clone was probably the closest thing he could get to making up with Keith. And frankly, he'd have to be a total asshole to be mean to the guy who had basically been _raised_ in a Galra prison. He was what, not even a year old?

And he thought _Shiro_ was huge for a six year old. X was practically _gigantic_ for a baby.

X seemed to consider it, idly fidgeting with the hem of his Olkari tunic. "I guess it wouldn't hurt?"

"That's the spirit!" Lance beamed. "Now come on. Pidge messaged me to say they've got all kinds of game booths down there. I'm hoping to win something sparkly for Allura."

X shifted on his feet, ducking his head. But he swore that just before, he caught the edge of a smile on the clone's lips.

Aw yeah. They hadn't even gotten to the fun part yet, but mission accomplished.

* * *

Drazan was... different from Olkarion.

He already knew that, based on what he had read. The surface of the planet was hard and rocky, lacking any of the natural greenery that Olkarion possessed. Most of the time, the surface wasn't even habitable. That didn't even touch on the massive beasts that roamed the surface every day of the year- save for this one.

He could kind of understand why they would want to celebrate.

He'd been helping Coran arrange the air show there over the past week. It was... more interesting than he thought it would be, actually. Though given that he had spent pretty much his entire life literally rotting away in a cell, probably even watching paint dry would be interesting to him.

So the idea of going to an actual carnival was... well, he hadn't expected to be invited. He had planned to spend the day in his room, reading up on the material Coran had given him. It was a rundown on all of Voltron's activities over the past few months, so that he could catch up to speed on just what had been going on since...

...well, not since he left. He'd never been on the Castle before. Since _Keith_ left, he guessed.

Still, Lance and Hunk had gone out of their way to invite him. He thought at least maybe he would humor them. He was sure they'd get tired of him after maybe like half an hour, and then he would just go back to the Castle.

For the most part, he trailed behind them. Lance was intent on winning something for the princess, and that singular focus took them to an area lined with various booths. He hung back with Hunk, watching as Lance got conned out of every token he had.

Each paladin had been given a sizable amount, and from that, Lance and Hunk had each given him five. He wasn't sure what to do with them, so he just sort of turned them over in his hands. He liked the way the cool metal felt in them. He thought about using them to get something to eat, but everything here smelled so strongly that it kind of turned his stomach.

He shifted on his feet. The ground was rough and dusty, and kind of hurt his feet. He thought about looking through the Altean clothing stores himself, but he still wasn't exactly up to wandering around the Castle on his own, much less taking something that didn't belong to him. Not that anything belonged to him- even those clothes were borrowed.

Just like his face.

He snorted. He had no idea why they had even invited him- if this was the direction his thoughts went in at the drop of a hat, he was bound just to be a downer.

"So... do you think we should like, tell him?" Hunk asked.

He blinked, not expecting to be spoken to. He quickly determined that he was talking about Lance, and glanced over in the direction of the blue paladin. "I thought he'd realize it by now."

Lance had zeroed in on one booth in particular, one that was handing out tiny plush Voltron lions. They were kind of cute, he thought. Lance appeared determined to get one for Allura, which confused him- hadn't he said he'd wanted to get something sparkly?

But he guessed humans and contradictions just went together. How they treated him was just evidence enough of that.

...and the fact that he even had that thought was evidence of just how badly he was divorced from his own supposed humanity. He guessed given the fact that he had been created by the Galra, he was probably more Galra than anything, even if he didn't actually look it. It might be better if he did- at least that way, people could never mistake him for the actual Keith.

...although, that actually hadn't happened yet. Which was weird- and probably just more evidence that Keith had been disfigured somehow. A scar maybe? A burn? He didn't know. It was Haggar they were dealing with- his mere existence was proof enough that nothing could be ruled out.

He kept wanting to ask about it, and even though Coran kept encouraging him to speak his mind, he still found it hard to. He knew the paladins wouldn't deprive him of food or water just for talking back, but that was basically all he had known until now. He had trouble enough saying no to the _kids_.

(An had fulfilled her promise, giving him some kind of elaborate french braid the next time he visited. She even tucked flowers into his hair. He was just grateful only Coran had seen him like that.)

"Mm," Hunk frowned, "-Lance tends to get tunnel vision at times like this."

"I mean... I guess we could find a game that's less rigged?" He meekly offered.

"Wow, you really don't know much about carnivals, huh?" Hunk asked.

He bristled, a sudden snap of anger bubbling to the surface. What was that supposed to mean? "Like I said, I've never been to one."

"Hey, whoa," Hunk held up his hands, trying to placate him, "-I didn't mean it like that. It just means that most carnival games are usually rigged. Honestly, Pidge is probably having better luck in the arcade."

He felt himself deflate. He probably shouldn't have snapped, but he still wasn't used to people having good intentions towards him. He kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. It made him anxious, how things had been going over the past week. He thought he would get used to it, but...

...but he just kept feeling like it was all temporary. Like this could all go away in an instant. Maybe he'd wake up, and he'd still be in his cell. Or maybe the princess would find a way to extract Keith's memories from his head, and they would dump him on one of the Coalition planets or something. Either way, he couldn't let himself get comfortable.

Worst of all, he still hadn't met Keith. He hadn't been able to get any answers either. People kept mentioning him, so he was either caught up in some kind of weird elaborate lie, or he really _was_ around, and was just actively avoiding him.

Which... made sense, he guessed. He'd probably do the same.

And again, asking? Out of the question. His curiosity had gotten the better of him before, but now he couldn't help but wonder if he actually wanted to even hear the answer. It was bad enough that Keith had amnesia because of him. He wasn't sure he wanted to find out anything further.

"Sorry," he muttered finally, realizing Hunk deserved an apology, "-didn't mean to snap."

"Hey, it's okay." Hunk reassured him. "You wanna maybe try a game?"

He frowned. "I thought you said they were all rigged?"

"Yeah, they are." Hunk said. "But that doesn't mean they're all rigged to be _unbeatable_. Just that you can't get the big fancy prize."

He considered it. It might be nice to win something to call his own, and he did have tokens to use. That said, he didn't even know what he would even _want_ in the first place. He could think of things _Keith_ would want, and while a lot of them were also appealing to him, that thought alone was enough to make him recoil.

"I guess I could try?" He said finally.

"Great!" Hunk beamed. "In that case, I suggest we go save Lance. Maybe an interruption would help with that tunnel vision of his."

He wordlessly nodded, letting Hunk guide him to the booth. "Pardon me," Hunk cut in, "-but my friend here would like to try the game."

 _Friend_. He froze- he'd said it so casually too. He bit his lip, trying not to dwell on it. It didn't mean anything. That was just how Hunk was. He knew that. Or well, his not-memories knew that but... same thing, in this instance.

What _did_ mean something was the way the alien managing the booth looked at him. He took one look at him- his _wrists_ , mainly- and told Hunk that it was two tokens to play the game, before handing him the actual rings that were supposed to be used to play the game, as opposed to the tiny ones he had given to Lance instead.

Okay. That just ticked him off.

Ignoring Lance's protests of _hey wait a second_ , he picked up one of the rings. Keith's aim was good. He knew that. But he also wasn't Keith. And the booth runner's assessment of him... well, it wasn't exactly _wrong_ , either. He wasn't exactly in stellar physical shape.

But, as he was just now finding out, he absolutely _hated_ to lose.

The first ring missed, but he'd kind of expected that. So did the second, but that was fine. As long as the third one didn't miss.

The third one almost missed, before it settled on the post. He grinned without thinking, not dwelling on how alien the expression felt on his face, or about how the way joy bubbled up inside of him. Not even about how petty it seemed to get joy from something as small as this. In the moment, none of that mattered.

He just savored the feeling.

"Hey, you did it!" Hunk beamed, grabbing him in a crushing side hug, causing his whole body to tense and his mind to snap squarely back to reality. "See? I knew you could!"

He swallowed, listening to Lance grumble. But there was a good nature to it, and if he was mad at anyone, it was the alien running the booth, not him. And Hunk's hug... it felt nice, actually. He was used to being handled roughly, and sure, the hug was probably the exact opposite of gentle, but it was warm. _Safe_. He felt a bit of tension leave him, for a brief moment, allowing himself to feel secure in a way he had never.

Something in his head finally clicked. Whatever happened, the paladins wouldn't hurt him. He felt like he could trust that a little now.

"Alright, alright," the alien seemed to huff, pulling out a box from under the counter, "-pick your prize kid."

Colorful Voltron lion plushies met his eyes, some of them not even in colors that existed- not unless they had added a purple lion. He didn't even know what a purple lion would _form_.

Hunk released him, and he stared down at the box, uncertain which to pick. Stuffed animals weren't exactly his thing- but then, what even _was_ his thing? Who knew? Maybe it actually was stuffed animals.

Instinct told him to pick the red lion, but he knew that was the devil talking. Instead, he just plunged his hand into the box, opting to let fate decide. It had done a shitty job with him thus far, but it had eventually lead the paladins to him, so maybe he could trust it just a little.

Drawing out his hand, he stared at the stuffed lion he had chosen. Orange. Figures he'd draw a color that Voltron didn't actually have.

"You know," Lance began, "-Voltron doesn't have an _orange_ lion either."

He ignored Lance, opting instead to stare down at the plush lion in his hand. He cracked a tiny smile- maybe this wasn't so bad. Voltron didn't have an orange lion, sure, but he wasn't sure he wanted to pull one of the actual lions, not even the red lion.

This was... this was better, he decided. This was _his_.

* * *

He didn't last much longer at the carnival after that. The noise and the lights got to be a little too much, so Hunk had escorted him back to the Castle. He had found his way back to his room on his own, and had promptly collapsed in his bed.

That night, for the first time ever, he slept soundly. If he did it while clutching a tiny orange lion, well... who had to know?


	21. courage side

Wow, this one turned out to be a little longer than I expected! But totally worth it, I had a lot of fun writing this entry. Finally, x is coming out of his shell and things are steadily starting to move forward to the conclusion of season four. Once this wraps up, I'll be taking another break from this story, just as a heads up. I actually publish this as a series over on AO3, of which there's like, eight entries now, so if you've ever wondered why the update schedule for this story in particular seems a little weird, that's why.

Anyways, thanks for reading! See you next time~!

* * *

 **abyss of being**

 **courage side**

* * *

"Remind me again how I let you talk me into this?"

"Because," Pidge almost chirped, "-we're friends, duh."

"I don't think friendship is worth _this_." Kethe dryly remarked, picking at the edge of the ridiculous costume Pidge had somehow managed to convince him to wear. It didn't help that both she and Matt were wearing the same kind of costume.

At least there was enough room for his tail. He hated the feeling of it being cramped.

"It's okay, Keith." Matt patted his shoulder. "Nobody can win against Pidge."

He grunted in agreement, letting the green paladin haul them both off to the photo booth. Going to the carnival hadn't exactly been in his plans, but somehow, Pidge had talked him into that too.

"We're not showing this to Regris, though." Kethe mumbled. "Or any other Blades."

"Deal." Pidge said. "I'll even throw in not showing it to Lance if you smile."

Kethe just snorted, but still complied. Granted, said smile was beyond awkward- it was more like he was awkwardly baring his teeth than actually smiling. But it seemed to make Pidge happy, so as far as he was concerned, that was good enough.

"Too bad Shiro has to work." Matt observed once they had taken the photo. He seemed content to remain in his goofy costume for a little while longer. "He could have been in the picture with us."

Kethe couldn't help but laugh at the mental image. Shiro? Wearing one of these ridiculous costumes? That he would pay to see.

Maybe Matt was fine with staying in costume, but Kethe was already removing his. He didn't know if he could handle anyone he knew seeing him in it. He was already getting enough odd looks just due to the fact that he was Galra. In spite of Coran's reassurances that people from all across the galaxy came to celebrate the Clear Day festivities, he was still the only Galra around.

He'd asked Regris if he wanted to come, but he'd declined. Probably for the best- _any_ Blade seeing him dressed like this would be mortifying, but Regris would be the worst.

Folding the costume over his arm, Kethe paused to adjust his braid. He had thought about inviting x, but he wasn't sure if the clone was quite ready to meet him face to face just yet. Besides, this didn't exactly seem like his kind of scene.

"He said he'd catch up with us once he's done." Kethe said, pulling his jacket back on and clipping his belt back around his waist. "The princess, too."

"I'm just glad _I_ could get some time off." Matt said. "Olia's been keeping us all pretty busy lately. Mostly scouting work."

"Wish I could say the same." Kethe said. "I've practically been dying of boredom. Nobody's letting me do _anything_."

"Is that why you've been bothering me in my lab so much?" Pidge asked, having already changed out of her own costume, eying Matt with a frown. "You planning on changing anytime soon?"

"I don't know, I kind of like it." Matt shrugged. "It's cozy."

"Suit yourself, but I'm pretty sure the photographer wants his costume back." Pidge pointed out, jerking her head in that direction. Sure enough, the photographer was eying Matt impatiently.

Giving him a nervous chuckle, Matt hurriedly stripped out of his costume, handing it back to the waiting photographer. Kethe just grinned, his tail flicking in amusement. He'd noticed, he just had decided not to say anything.

"Anyways, Shiro says that as soon as we build up the Coalition enough, Voltron will make it's next move." Pidge said. "So you shouldn't be bored for long, mister hotshot pilot."

Kethe tilted his head at the nickname, but eventually just shrugged his shoulders. He had come to accept the fact that the other paladins would periodically make references that he just didn't get. It was part and parcel of the whole pseudo-amnesia deal.

He guessed it really was _pseudo_ -amnesia, since he hadn't exactly _forgotten_ anything, so much as his memories had been stripped from him and shoved into a clone of him. And sure, it had the same overall effect as actually _having_ amnesia, but at least with amnesia, there was a chance he might get his memories back on his own.

Like this? Not so much.

"Hope so." Kethe said. "Zarkon's not going to be distracted by Lotor forever."

"Talk about your _family feud_." Matt quipped.

Fighting back a snort, Kethe ducked his head. That was such a bad joke that he didn't want to be caught dead laughing at it.

As they weaved through the booths, Kethe hung back a bit, listening to Pidge and Matt banter. It wasn't that he was avoiding in taking part- it was just that sometimes he simply preferred to listen, content to let the siblings quarrel. He had been distressed the first time they had started to bicker, under the impression that they were having a serious fight, only to be informed that this type of quarrel was common amongst human siblings, and usually had no real lasting effect on their relationship.

He wondered if maybe they could be like that- him and the clone. They weren't exactly siblings, but it felt nicer to think of him that way. Watching Matt and Pidge interact... it made him feel like it would be kind of nice to have a little brother.

Or twin brother? A younger twin brother? Granted, they didn't look _that_ much alike anymore, what with one of them being human and the other being Galra. But he guessed there were twins like that.

Lifting his head, Kethe came to a halt. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he caught sight of Hunk, in the gap between the booths. Doubling back, he confirmed that it was the yellow paladin, and what's more, that he wasn't alone.

Pidge blinked, noticing that he had ceased to follow them. Looking up at him, she then curiously peered through the crack herself. "What's-? Oh."

Matt, not one to be left out, peeked through the crack too. "Oh, hey! Is that x?"

"Seems like it." Kethe remarked. "Guess Lance and Hunk must have talked him into coming."

"Huh." Pidge frowned. "Well, good for him, I guess."

Drawing away, Kethe gave them a weak smile. "Come on, we should leave them be."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Pidge agreed. "Wouldn't want to overwhelm him."

"I was thinking more along the lines that it was better if he didn't see me." Kethe said. "But that's a good point too. I'm actually kind of surprised that he's even _here_. He seems kind of..."

"-skittish?" Pidge finished, to which he nodded. "Can you blame him though?"

Kethe just shook his head. He had only spoken with the clone that one time, but he'd gotten impressions of him from the other paladins and Coran- mostly Coran. "I might not remember much of my time as a Galra captive, but what I do remember was pretty bad."

"What they feed you alone constitutes a war crime." Matt remarked.

Pidge just frowned. He suspected she didn't like being reminded of the fact that her brother had been a Galra prisoner. It probably just reminded her of the fact that she still hadn't found her father. He kept an eye on the prisoner logs the Blade recovered just in case, but there was still essentially no trace of Sam Holt.

"Anyways," Kethe said, hurriedly changing the subject, "-if he's here, that's a good sign, right?"

"Pretty much." Pidge agreed. "Unless Lance just dragged him out here."

"With Hunk around? No way." Kethe shook his head. "He wouldn't let him."

"Mm, good point." Pidge agreed. "But you're right, we should probably leave them alone."

Kethe gave her a faint smile, taking another peek through the crack. The clone looked like he was talking to Hunk about something, but with all the extraneous noise from the carnival, he couldn't make out what. Still, it was good to know that he was starting to open up a little.

He knew how it felt to feel like you didn't belong. To feel like you weren't part of the group. He'd felt that way too.

But he was- and so was the clone. He just needed to take the time to understand that.

"Now come on," Pidge grinned, grabbing both him and Matt by their arms, ready to haul them off to who knows where, "-there are dangerous, poorly constructed carnival thrill rides that have my name all over them. Let's go ride some!"

"Wait," Kethe interjected, "-what do you mean, _poorly constructed_?"

* * *

He woke feeling refreshed.

It was a strange feeling, to not be _tired_. He was so used to it, that the absence of his own exhaustion seemed strange, _baffling_ , even. Even the deep bags under his eyes, a constant reminder of his own poor state, seemed like they were a little lighter that morning.

It dawned on him as he was looking at them that he was looking in the mirror.

Blinking, he drew back, staring at his own reflection. At his borrowed face. His feelings towards it hadn't changed, but just like the bags under his eyes, it felt like they had become a little lighter.

He didn't fully understand _why_. All he had done was play a carnival game. It couldn't be that easy, could it?

Turning on his heel, he glanced out of his bathroom, peering at the orange lion plush still resting on his bed. Still there. So yesterday hadn't been some kind of a dream.

He doubted it was. His dreams were _never_ that nice.

Returning to his bedroom, he scooped up the orange lion. Looking at it closer, it was kind of shoddily made, like whoever had been putting it together was just trying to make as many as possible, instead of just focusing on the quality of what they were working on. Its eyes weren't symmetrical, its paws weren't level, and its tail had been sewn on upside-down. No store would ever sell it. It was a flawed, failed product.

It was perfect.

He was a flawed, failed product too. A clone that hadn't even been able to accomplish the mission that it had been created for. But he was starting to think that maybe it wasn't just out of the niceness of their hearts that the paladins were keeping him around, nor was it just the fact that he held the memories of their own red paladin.

It was something else. Something _more_. He didn't know enough to put it into words just yet, but maybe he'd get there.

A knock on his door pulled him out of his thoughts. Turning on his heel, he frowned, before setting the tiny orange lion back down on his pillow. "Yeah?"

A few seconds later, Hunk stepped in. He was holding a tray with something that smelled like porridge on it, a faint whiff of cinnamon- or the closest thing space had to it- drifting from the bowl.

"Oh hey!" Hunk beamed. "You're up!"

He just blinked, staring at him. "Yeah? It's morning."

"I mean, you didn't answer when I knocked an hour ago, so I thought..." Hunk trailed off, before shaking his head. "Anyways, I brought you your breakfast! I had to heat it back up again, but I promise it'll still be just as good."

He had been by here before? He frowned, his brows knitting together. He didn't remember hearing anyone knock on his door. He was almost positive it would have woken him, but he also didn't see any reason why Hunk would lie about it.

He guessed he really had slept pretty soundly.

He also abruptly realized that Hunk was waiting for some kind of a reply. "Uh... thanks?"

Hunk beamed even brighter. "Come on, sit! I'll set everything up."

Chewing on his lip, he watched as Hunk set down the tray, staring at him expectantly. "Actually," he began, before he could change his mind, "-I was thinking about maybe eating in the kitchen today?"

"If that's okay." He was quick to add, still terrified that he might overstep his boundaries somehow. That maybe he had misread the situation after all.

Hunk stared at him, and he inwardly cursed. Of course he'd misread the situation. What had he been thinking? It wasn't like he had any social skills to speak of. He could barely interact with _children_.

After what seemed like several excruciatingly long seconds, Hunk shook off his stupor, beaming so bright that he almost seemed to glow. "Sure, yeah, that'd be great! But uh, why the sudden urge?"

He frowned, gaze darting down towards the floor. He didn't know why, exactly. Maybe it was just something about yesterday's events that made him feel a little bolder. "I just- Coran invited me the other day."

He winced. That wasn't actually a reason.

But that didn't seem to bother Hunk at all. Instead, he just scooped up the tray, still smiling broadly. "Well hey, that's great! Come on, I'll walk down with you. You know, if you want."

"I do!" He said quickly, before he flinched, wondering if he had come on too strong. "I mean... yes?"

This was harder than he thought.

"Well, glad to hear it, buddy." Hunk said. "You okay if there's other people there? I think Lance and Shiro were there last time I checked, which was like, what, six minutes ago? Maybe seven? Anyways, what I'm saying is, they're probably still there, if that's you know, okay with you."

 _Was_ it okay with him? He had to think about it. Fidgeting with the hem of his tunic, he turned it over in his head, before he slowly nodded. The whole point of this was to try and test himself- running away just because he might have to deal with more than one person sounded, well... kind of pathetic.

And while maybe he wasn't exactly clear on the whole who he wanted to be thing yet, he was pretty sure _pathetic_ wasn't it.

* * *

Today, Hunk thought, was going to be a good day. There was a spring to his step as he walked, occasionally glancing back just to make sure that x was still there.

"So," Hunk began, "-how are you liking life on the Castle?"

X just shrugged. "It's an improvement."

Mm. Guess he got the habit of making understatements from Keith.

"Yeah, yeah, guess it would be." Hunk agreed. He didn't really feel the need to get into _that_ particular heavy topic first thing in the morning, and he got the feeling neither did x. "So... did you catch any of last night's air show?"

X blinked, peering at him from behind a certifiable waterfall of bangs. "I fell asleep. Sorry."

"Hey, it's cool." Hunk said. "You had a busy day. I get it. Sometimes when we wrap up a big mission, I know that all I want to do is snooze until Sunday."

Tilting his head, x peered curiously at him. "How would you even know it's Sunday?"

"Just, you know... a figure of speech." Hunk told him.

A look of understanding dawned over the clone's features, so much like Keith's own that it momentarily gave him pause. "Oh."

Hunk managed to give x a weak smile. It was weird. Keith didn't exactly possess human features anymore, but their expressions were still practically the same. Somehow he thought it was better not to mention that, though. X needed time to establish himself, and comparing him to Keith wouldn't help with that.

"Anyways, maybe you'll catch another." Hunk told him. "Coran's got a few more slated."

X just hummed. "I know."

"Oh yeah, guess you would." Hunk said. "Seeing as you're working with him and all. How is that, by the way?"

X frowned, considering the question. "It's fine."

Oof, this was awkward. Somehow it was easier to talk to him yesterday, but he guessed they also sort of had more to talk about, what with the carnival and all. Still, he was making progress. X hadn't run away yet, and they were almost to the kitchen, so he was just going to consider that a victory.

Now if they could just work things out between him and Keith...

Entering the kitchen, Hunk paused. Lance and Shiro were both there, right where he left them, but neither of them were looking at him, or even each other. Instead, they were looking below the counter, before they slowly pulled their gazes up, looking towards Hunk, a pair of strained smiles mirrored on both of their faces.

"Uh, what's...?"

From behind the counter, a familiar tail flicked briefly into view, and Hunk felt the world drop out from underneath his feet. Oh. _Oh no_.

Seconds later, x peeked into the kitchen and the tail vanished. Keith must have heard them coming, but hadn't had enough time to get out of the kitchen. Then again, there was only one exit, so it would have been impossible for him to leave without x seeing him.

"Hey, x!" Lance greeted the clone, and Hunk had to bite back a groan. Could he sound more nervous? "Fancy seeing you here!"

"Uh," x blinked, suddenly uncertain, "-am I... am I not allowed to be here?"

Shiro being Shiro, he recovered from the shock quickly. "Of course you are."

X chewed on his lip, not seeming convinced. Still, he nodded after a moment, shuffling past Hunk to make his way into the kitchen. He took a seat at the counter- on the side opposite from Lance, Shiro, and apparently, _Keith_ \- thankfully enough.

Hunk shook off his own shock, making his way into the kitchen behind him. Placing the tray down in front of x, he tried to resist the temptation to peer over the counter and confirm what he knew already. There wasn't exactly anyone else on this ship that had a tail, not since Regris had lost his. Not unless Pidge had snuck in a new critter of some kind, and while he wouldn't put that past her, he didn't think that was what this was.

"So," Shiro began, "-I hear you went down to the carnival with Lance and Hunk last night."

X stared at Shiro for a long moment, like he was shocked he was even being spoken to. Slowly, he nodded. "Yeah. They invited me."

"Well, I hope you had a good time." Shiro told him. When he smiled, it was completely sincere, but somehow that only managed to put x more on edge.

"Um," x's gaze darted downwards, fixing on his porridge, "-yeah. It was okay."

"Pssh, just okay?" Lance snorted. "You should have seen his face when he won that carnival game, Shiro. He was grinning like a complete idiot."

X frowned, glaring at Lance. "I wasn't grinning like an idiot."

"There's no shame in getting excited." Shiro assured him. "I'm glad to hear that you enjoyed yourself."

Hunk smiled, using the chance to duck around to the other side of the counter. Peering down, but trying to not make it, you know, _too_ obvious that he was looking at someone, he quickly confirmed that yep, that sure was Keith down there, hiding in between Lance and Shiro's seats. He was wearing casual clothing, leaving no room for the option of just slipping on his Blade mask and remaining anonymous. The red paladin glanced up towards him, giving him a sheepish expression, silently muttering the words _help me_ under his breath.

Right. He had to figure out what to do with this.

X had just decided to leave his room, which was _huge_. Now wasn't exactly the best time to spring Keith on him.

"So," Hunk began, "-how's the porridge?"

X started, seemingly realizing that he hadn't taken a single bite yet. Looking sheepish, he hurriedly removed the lid, shoving a spoonful into his mouth. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Keith crawled to the edge of the counter, apparently ready to bolt the moment he had the chance.

"It's good." X mumbled, his gaze still fixed on the bowl.

"Yeah?" Hunk asked, making his way around to the other side of the counter. Putting his big body to work, he used it to block the clone's line of sight to the door. Hopefully he didn't it casually enough that he wouldn't notice. "I tried putting in this spice I got at the Olkari markets. It tastes almost exactly like cinnamon."

X glanced up at him, frowning a little. Inwardly, Hunk flinched, wondering if he'd noticed something, but to his great relief, he quickly looked back down at his porridge. "It's nice. Thanks."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Shiro shift a bit in his seat, possibly nudging Keith. Taking that as a sign, the red paladin bolted, disappearing from the kitchen faster than he thought possible.

If not quite fast enough. X blinked, lifting his head. "What was what?"

"What was what?" Lance asked.

"That." X frowned, his brow furrowing. "Something just went by."

"Nothing went by." Lance said quickly. Maybe a little _too_ quickly, since x just locked eyes with him, skepticism laced in his gaze.

"I thought I saw something." X said.

"Maybe the Castle is acting up a bit again." Shiro said smoothly. "I should probably tell Coran to keep an eye out. Hopefully it's nothing serious."

X's frown deepened, but he seemed to accept that. Either that or his hunger won out, since he spent the next few minutes slowly consuming his porridge. He nearly finished it this time, Hunk noticed- his appetite had steadily been improving ever since he'd come out of the pod. It was a good sign that his recovery was progressing smoothly.

He definitely looked a lot better, Hunk thought. His skin had a little sun on it, where before it had been so pale it was nearly translucent. He was still pretty skinny, but a week's worth of food wasn't going to do a whole lot to combat that- nor was a week long enough for him to really start developing any muscle tone. But the bags underneath his eyes were a bit lighter, and his eyes were-

...okay, so his eyes still didn't catch light _quite_ right. But he was more used to it. Sure, it had been just a tad creepy at first, but hey- it wasn't a big deal when it came down to it.

"I guess _someone_ was hungry." Shiro joked.

Lance rolled his eyes, groaning. "See, it's when you say stuff like that, that you sound exactly like somebody's dad."

Shiro just frowned. "I don't think I sound that much like a dad. Hunk?"

"Nope, sorry Shiro, I'm with Lance on this one." Hunk told him. "That was a total dad line."

Shiro looked a little betrayed, but he was pretty sure he wasn't being serious. "X? What do you think?"

X blinked, once again startled that someone was actually talking to him. "Huh?"

"He wants to know if you think that sounded like a dad line." Lance said.

"Oh." X's brow furrowed. "Maybe?"

"And that's good enough for me." Lance grinned. "See? Total dad line."

Shiro just chuckled. "If you say so. So, you got any plans for today, x?"

"Uh," x hesitated before answering, "-I guess I was going to help Coran?"

"Solid plan." Shiro nodded. "I've got a riveting day of revising speeches ahead of me. I've got to come up with something that will really inspire people to join the Coalition."

"Yeah, it's a good thing we finally managed to talk Coran out of those ice shows he wanted to put on." Hunk said, not even fighting the urge to groan. "I mean, I don't even know how to skate."

Lance just rolled his eyes. "Pssh. You guys are just lame. I think the ice shows would have totally been cool."

"Lance, if I wanted to make a fool out of myself on ice skates, I could do that back home." Hunk pointed out, ignoring the pang the words _back home_ brought him. "I don't see how me falling on my ass would do anything to inspire the Coalition's faith in Voltron."

X snorted- loudly. Noticing everyone's eyes on him, he flinched, ducking his head. "I- sorry. I shouldn't have laughed."

"Hey, it's cool." Hunk assured him. If picturing him making a fool out of himself on ice skates was what it took to get him to laugh, then you know what? He was fine with that. He could probably use one.

"Yeah, no one's going to get mad at you for laughing." Lance said. "Besides, trust me, I've _seen_ Hunk fall on his ass, and it's hilarious."

Giving Lance a warning glare proved ineffective, because the blue paladin just shrugged it off. "What? You have to admit, it's pretty funny."

"Okay, you two," Shiro cut in, "-let's maybe stop throwing the word _ass_ around already."

"Oh come on, Shiro." Lance rolled his eyes. "It's not like there's any children around."

X shifted in his seat, before peeking out from underneath his bangs. "Well," he began, pausing to nervously lick his lips before he continued, "-technically I'm not even a year old, so..."

Did he just? He did! Unable to stop himself, Hunk _beamed_. "You made a joke!"

Gaze darting up towards him, x slowly nodded. "Is that allowed?"

"Why wouldn't it be allowed?" Shiro asked.

"I don't know." X admitted. "It's just... when I was a prisoner, sometimes I'd get punished for talking."

"Punished?" Shiro asked, concern evident in his voice. "Punished how?"

For a second, Hunk thought he wouldn't answer. X's fingers dug into the hem of his tunic, fidgeting with the material. "Um, sometimes they'd withhold food. Or water. Sometimes both."

Hunk felt a pang of sympathy for the clone. No wonder he had been so malnourished when they had found him. Those were lousy conditions to live in.

"Well no one is going to do that here." Shiro assured him. "I promise."

X swallowed, his gaze darting downwards. "Then is it okay if I ask a question?"

"Of course." Shiro smiled. "Ask anything you want."

Drawing in a deep breath, the clone almost seemed to brace himself. Looking up, he locked eyes with Shiro, forcing himself to hold it there.

"Keith's avoiding me, isn't he?"

* * *

The silence was nearly deafening. He already regretted asking, but he forced himself not to break eye contact with Shiro. He needed to know.

Finally, Shiro heaved a long sigh. "It's not that."

"Then what is it?" He asked. "If he's not avoiding me, then why haven't I seen him?"

He watched as the paladins all exchanged glances. Shiro stood, giving him a weak smile. "How about you and I take a walk?"

He frowned. "Can't we just talk here?"

"Sure, we can do that." Shiro told him. "But there's something I want to show you."

He blinked at that. Something he wanted to show him? For a second he thought he meant Keith, but no- that would be some _one_ , not some _thing_. So what...?

"Okay," he swallowed, unsure if he'd regret this or not, "-yeah, sure."

He felt like he _should_ trust Shiro, but he knew that was just Keith's memories talking. He didn't have that same kind of bond he did with the black paladin. Just because he looked like Keith, and had Keith's memories, didn't mean that he automatically got that bond by default.

Still... this was _Shiro_. And his impression of Shiro thus far was a man who had been frank and honest with him, who had assured him that he wasn't going to hold what he was and who he was made by against him. He hadn't really believed it at the time, but he felt like he could believe it a little better now.

Shiro nodded. "Glad to hear it. Don't worry, it's not too far. And I'll answer any questions you have on the way."

"We'll just clean up here." Hunk said. "Right, Lance?"

"Huh?" Lance blinked, before shaking off his stupor. "Oh, uh, yeah. Sure thing, buddy. You two go have a fun walk or whatever."

Watching as Lance hastily scooped up his and Shiro's plates, he carefully slid out of his chair. He hoped Coran didn't need him for much this morning- he wasn't sure how long this walk of Shiro's would take, or if he'd even be in the mood to work once it was done. Looking up, he noticed that the black paladin appeared to be patiently waiting for him.

He exhaled. Right. He didn't need to rush.

Coming up beside Shiro, the black paladin offered him another smile, this one stronger than before. It was sincere- or at least, it _felt_ sincere. His frame of reference wasn't exactly great.

"So how are you adjusting to life on the Castle?" Shiro asked once they had left the kitchen.

"Hunk just asked me that." He stated. "You could just ask him."

Shiro just chuckled. "Maybe. But I want to hear it from you."

Falling into step behind him, he considered it. He had given Hunk a hasty answer, not wanting to drag the topic on, but he felt he should give Shiro something a little more substantial. "It's... something I never thought I'd be able to experience. I thought-"

He closed his mouth, unable to finish that sentence.

"You thought you would die a prisoner." Shiro finished.

He blinked, looking up at him. "How did you-?"

Shiro just offered him another weak smile, holding up his right arm. "I was one too, you know. It's hard not to think like that sometimes."

Oh. A look of understanding dawned across his face. Right. He'd almost forgotten. It was just... Shiro seemed so composed, that it was hard to think that he had ever been held prisoner by the Galra. Especially when compared to him.

"How do you," he began, "-how do you handle it?"

"Day by day." Shiro told him, rubbing his right wrist with his left hand. "Hour by hour. Minute by minute. It's not easy."

He wanted to say that he made it _look_ easy, but he stopped himself. That... didn't sound like the right thing to say. At least, he didn't think he'd like it if someone said it to him.

Shiro looked back towards him, slowing down his pace so that they were side by side. "You'll get the hang of it. It just takes time."

"Sometimes it doesn't feel that way." He admitted. "When I think about how I wouldn't exist if not for them, I..."

He stopped himself. What if Shiro didn't want to hear about this? Hadn't they left the kitchen with the intention to talk about Keith? Why would Shiro want to talk about him? Why would _anyone_? He was just-

"It's alright." Shiro reassured him, carefully resting his hand on his shoulder. He froze a little at the touch, but didn't move to push him away. "Go on."

He swallowed, glancing down at Shiro's hand. His touch was gentle- that was another thing he didn't have any experience with. He was used to _rough_. The kind that left bruises in the shape of handprints on his shoulders and wrists- sometimes even his throat.

 _Gentle_ felt nice.

"I know what I am." He half-mumbled. "I'm just a tool. And a defective one at that."

Shiro frowned. "Nobody here thinks of you like that."

Yeah. He was starting to get that. But it still didn't change the fact that, "-but _I_ do."

Shiro paused. "Is that what Haggar told you?"

"It's just the truth." He stated. "I was created for one reason, and I couldn't even do _that_. She should have just scrapped me then. I don't know why she didn't."

"You're not just something that can be _scrapped_." Shiro told him, his tone insistent.

He just stared up at him. "It's not like I'm a real person. I'm a clone, Shiro. _I_ don't exist."

For a long moment, Shiro did nothing but stare at him, before he drew in a deep breath. Carefully placing his other hand on his shoulder, he locked eyes with him. "But you do. Right here, right now. _You_ exist."

He tore his gaze away, staring instead at the floor. "I don't even know who that is."

"Then figure it out." Shiro told him. "Nobody knows who they are at first. It takes time. You have that now."

He made it sound so simple. From anyone else, it would sound almost patronizing- he was talking about things he didn't understand, could _never_ understand. But coming from Shiro, everything sounded possible.

He might have Keith's memories, but they lacked any emotional context. Even so, his trust for Shiro had shone through- and he was starting to understand why.

Shiro smiled at him, patient and understanding, _kind_. It was similar, but it wasn't... it wasn't the same smile he'd seen in Keith's memories, the one that had been reserved for him. It wasn't one that he recognized at all.

Oh. It was for _him_.

He swallowed. Bit his lip. Wanted to look away again. But he didn't.

"I don't... I don't even have a name." He finally managed. "A real one, at least."

 _X_ wasn't a name. He knew that. It never would be.

"That's something we can work on." Shiro assured him. "I'm sure if we work together, we can come up with something that will suit you."

He wondered what it was. When he said that, he felt like he could believe him.

The smile he gave in return was weak, hesitant- but it was still there. "I'd like that."

"Good to hear it." Shiro said. "Now, what was it that you wanted to ask about Keith?"

* * *

It took awhile for x to properly form his question.

There was a _reluctance_ to the clone that Keith never had. Even back when they had first been getting to know each other, before he'd gained Keith's trust, the younger boy had never exactly been hesitant to speak his mind. But if what the clone said was true about the punishments he had received while he was being held in captivity- and he had no reason to doubt it- then he had good reason.

It only made him wish they'd found him sooner. He shouldn't have gone through the things he had. No one should have.

"You said he's not avoiding me." X said slowly, one hand fidgeting with the hem of his tunic all the while. "But I haven't seen him yet. So if he's not avoiding me, then why...?"

Avoiding him. He wasn't surprised that the clone had come to that conclusion. And in a sense... yes, Keith _was_ sort of avoiding him, just not for the reasons he might think. It wasn't that Keith didn't want to meet him- he did, he wouldn't have asked Coran if he could bring his food up to him that one time if he didn't want to meet him at all.

Still, that had been too close of a call earlier. If x was starting to gather the courage to roam the ship on his own, then they'd meet before long. It was better that he be prepared for it when they did.

"Pidge told me that she mentioned his amnesia to you." Shiro said.

Nodding his head, x peered up at him from underneath his mess of bangs. "Yeah. That's why I have," he motioned towards his head, "-them all in here, right? Haggar gave me them."

"That's right." Shiro told him. "According to Allura, you're likely a vessel of some kind of Keith's memories. It's an old Altean ritual, just... not one that was meant to be used like this."

His words were frank, but the got the feeling the clone appreciated a certain level of frankness. It was something he had in common with Keith- they both preferred direct honesty over beating around the bush. Even if said honesty could sometimes be painful.

"Altean?" X asked, apparently taking the idea that he was a _vessel_ in stride. But then, he had just admitted to the fact that he regarded himself as a tool- a view he hoped that they might be able to change with time. "Why would Haggar be performing an Altean ritual?"

Shiro blinked. "Oh, right. Guess you wouldn't know. We think Haggar's Altean."

"Wha- she's _Altean_?!" X blurted out, eyes wide with surprise. "I thought... why would she be working with the Galra?"

"It's a long story." Shiro told him. "I could tell you it if you want, but..."

X just shook his head. "I'd rather hear about Keith."

Shiro nodded. "That's what I thought. We think Haggar planned to use you to infiltrate the Castle of Lions."

X nodded. "I know that much."

Right. Of course he did. He tried not to dwell on just how long he'd lived with that knowledge- possibly all his life, or at least, ever since he realized that the memories in his head weren't actually his. He couldn't even imagine what it was like.

Probably no one could.

"Well, we think she had her own plans for Keith." Shiro stated, before coming to a halt, glancing back down at x. "You and Keith- you're both part Galra. You know that, right?"

X looked up at him, momentarily shocked, before he slowly nodded his head. "They called me _halfbreed_ a lot. It was hard not to."

Shiro winced. He guessed having Galra blood didn't exactly make life in Galra prison any easier- not that he thought it would. He knew how obsessed with purity the Galra could be. He could only imagine how reviled a halfbreed _clone_ would have been.

It also answered the lingering question of whether Keith had known he was Galra prior to arriving on the Castle of Lions. If it was something the clone had only heard about during his captivity, then the answer to that was a resounding _no_. He tried not to think how much of a shock it had to have been for Keith. If his hunch was right, that was a memory lost to the sands of time- neither the clone nor the original seemed to possess it.

"I just... I didn't think _you_ knew." X admitted.

"Oh, trust us, we've known for awhile." Shiro told him. It was kind of hard to miss Keith being purple, after all. "I don't suppose anyone mentioned who it was that rescued Keith?"

X shook his head in response. Right. He didn't think so.

"It was a Galra named Ulaz." Shiro told him. "He was part of the Blade of Marmora. You know who they are, right?"

Again, x nodded. "They're rebel Galra. Coran told me about them."

"Right." Shiro stated. "Well, after that, Keith didn't join back up with us right away. He stayed with the Blade of Marmora. He's a member, actually."

X peered up at him, blinking in confusion. Slowly but surely, a look of understanding drew across his face. He stopped in his tracks. "Wait, so... is he-?"

"The Galra you met?" Shiro finished, offering him a faint smile. "That's him, alright. I _did_ say he wasn't avoiding you."

X stared at him, searching his face for any trace of this being some kind of bad joke. When he found no sign that it was, he simply continued to look baffled. "I- but he had a _tail_."

Shiro chuckled. He remembered saying the same thing to Hunk, what felt like ages ago now. "That he does."

"I don't understand," x pressed, "-that's _not_ what I remember."

"I imagine it's not," Shiro told him, "-seeing as it's a recent development."

He watched as comprehension washed across x's features, followed by a wave of guilt. His facial expressions really did play out almost exactly the same as Keith's, and it felt almost like having a cheat sheet to what he was feeling. It also made him feel like he was taking a shortcut in getting to know the clone, which... didn't feel all that great, if he was going to be honest.

He wanted to encourage x to become his own person, but it was impossible _not_ to compare him to Keith. Even if he'd gotten used to Keith being Galra, seeing his human face again just brought everything back.

But that was _his_ issue. He'd deal with it himself. The clone had enough on his plate already without having to worry about someone else's problems.

The same went for Keith.

"It's because of me, isn't it?" X asked.

"It's not-"

"Don't lie." X cut him off. "Please."

Shiro sighed. "I promise, it's not because of you. Haggar did this. The fault lies with her."

X didn't look convinced, but he also didn't think it would be that easy. Sometimes he still blamed himself for not being able to protect his crew- even though he knew there was nothing he could have done to keep them safe from the Galra. That the blame for what had happened on Kerberos rested solely with the Galra Empire.

 _Keith_ , on the other hand...

He tried not to dwell on that. That lingering guilt was just another thing he would deal with on his own time.

X shifted on his feet. "So... he's Galra?"

Shiro shrugged. "He's always been Galra. He just looks more like it now."

"Is that why he doesn't take part in the air shows?" X asked. "Why people think the princess is the red lion's paladin?"

"That's part of it." Shiro told him, once again opting to not mince words. "Keith... he thinks the universe isn't ready for a Galra paladin just yet. I disagree, but the decision's ultimately up to him."

X said nothing to that, instead just staring down at his feet. He didn't blame him. It was a lot to take in.

Finally, he peeked up again. "So... you said you want to show me something?"

"That I did." Shiro nodded. "If you're still feeling up to it, that is."

He seemed to consider it, before finally nodding. "Sure, why not?"

The rest of their walk was done in silence. He kept an eye on x the entire time, just in case he changed his mind. Just because he was getting a little better at speaking his mind didn't mean he always would. The last thing he wanted to do was force him into an uncomfortable situation.

Once they drew closer to their destination, x shifted on his feet, frowning. There was badly disguised recognition in those eyes. "Where are we going?"

Shiro just smiled at him. "You'll see."

He suspected he already knew. He did have Keith's memories, after all. He was probably familiar with the layout of the Castle, given that he had been able to make his way down to the lower deck with the pods. The Castle of Lions wasn't the easiest place to navigate- without something to guide you, it was fairly easy to get lost.

Not that it had ever happened to him.

(It had. He was pretending it hadn't. He had a reputation to keep.)

He kept an eye on the clone, searching for any signs that he might want to back out. And while there was hesitation, there was nothing to indicate that he wanted to turn back, so he pressed on. By the time they were standing outside the door to the red lion's hangar, he was pretty sure he had resolved himself to see things through.

Still, he waited. He wanted him to comfortable- or as comfortable as he possibly could be. "You ready?"

* * *

The red lion was like nothing he could have imagined.

He had memories of it, sure. They might not be _his_ , but he still had them. But just like they hadn't come anywhere close to preparing him for his first steps on an actual planet, they did nothing to actually prepare him for seeing the red lion with his own eyes.

"Pretty impressive, huh?" Shiro asked.

Flinching, he jerked back to look at Shiro. He had almost forgotten he was there, even though he was the one who had brought him here. Shifting on his feet, he looked at him with uncertainty. "Is it okay for me to even be here?"

Shiro shrugged. "I don't see why not."

He opened his mouth to remind him of just what he was, before he promptly closed it. He didn't get it, but he knew that Shiro- and likely the other paladins- didn't see him the same way he saw himself. He couldn't understand _why_ \- what was he if not a tool?

But... it was nice. It made him feel like he could maybe believe it, at least a little.

"What about Keith?" He cautiously asked. "What if he's not okay with me being here?"

Honestly, he was still sort of trying to wrap his head around just what Shiro had told him. It wasn't like he hadn't know that Keith was half-Galra- _he_ was half-Galra, so it was a foregone conclusion that his source material was as well. He just... he hadn't expected him to _be_ Galra. At least, not physically.

He was sort of getting a picture of just what it was that Haggar wanted now. He was more grateful than ever that her plan hadn't worked out.

He wondered what it would be like if it had. If he had believed he was Keith. Would he be one of them now? Or would the red lion see right through him, even if no one else could?

Looking up at it, he could believe it.

"I'm sure Keith's just fine with it." Shiro assured him.

"But what if he-"

"It's fine."

The sound of the voice alone made him freeze. He recognized it. Of course he did. He heard it every time he opened his mouth to speak.

Slowly but surely, he turned on his heel. Standing behind him, with his arms folded in front of him, was a Galra, a braid of black hair looped around his neck. He was wearing a red and white jacket that clashed with his purple fur. A tail twitched behind him, drawing nervous circles on the floor, even as golden eyes met his, outwardly confident.

It lasted for maybe all of two seconds, before an awkward smile took its place. Extending his arm, he gave him an expectant look.

"I'm Keith."


	22. side

Here we are, at the end of _abyss of being_! I was planning on it including Naxzela and being another chapter longer at least, but I felt it was better to end it here. But never fear! The fun filled events of Naxzela will be covered in a future update- why, the very next one, in fact! So, you know, look forward to that! I'll take another brief hiatus from this story before I return with the next entry, so stay tuned!

* * *

abyss of being

? side

* * *

"I'm Keith."

For a few ticks, all the clone did was stare blankly at his hand. Kethe felt his stomach twist, wondering if he had misread the situation. Then, with the utmost caution, the clone finally took his hand. His grip was lax- he couldn't tell if it was just from nerves or lack of muscle strength- or possibly both.

"I'm your clone?" He said weakly.

"I've heard." Kethe said, releasing his hand. It hung awkwardly in the air for a tick, before he dropped it by their side. "You came to see the red lion?"

The clone shifted on his feet, anxiously digging his fingers into the hem of Olkari tunic. His anxiety was almost palpable, and internally, he couldn't help but wince. He hadn't meant it that way, but his question might have come across as an accusation. "I just- I don't- I don't _want_ it, I just-"

Heaving a sigh, Kethe folded his arms in front of him. "It was Shiro's idea, wasn't it? Knowing him, he probably forced you into it."

He shot Shiro a look at that, who merely quirked a grin. This guy... he knew he'd be here. He'd told him that much when he had swung by the kitchen after his morning training. That hadn't even been one varga ago, so there was no way he'd forgotten.

He'd done this on purpose.

"I wouldn't say I _forced_ him," was all Shiro had to say in his defense. Figured.

"Then it's fine." Kethe simply said.

"Are you sure?" X asked. "It's your lion, and I'm-"

He didn't finish that sentence, but it wasn't hard to guess what it was he wanted to say.

It was a fair point. He'd been worried about it too. Honestly? He still kind of was. In spite of Allura's reassurances, in spite of _Red's_ reassurances, he still dreaded that there was still some chance that his entire world could be ripped out from underneath his feet yet again.

And this time he wouldn't even have the luxury of not remembering.

If there were any silver lining to his memories being stolen, it was that it had allowed him to embrace being Galra with no real preconceptions. It was true that once he learned what a Galra was, he had realized his captors had been Galra too- but he knew just as well that so were those who had helped him- had _saved_ him.

Thinking about Ulaz was still painful, even though it had been phoebs now since his death. He missed him- him and Antok, who was the first Blade he had met that wasn't Ulaz. He'd never met Thace, but he wished he had. Regris would talk about him sometimes- about how Kolivan had held him in high esteem.

(He was so glad he hadn't lost Regris too.)

"I'm sure." Kethe said, allowing himself the slight lie. The clone needed it more than he did. He might not remember, but he didn't think he'd ever been this... this _fidgety_ , or this anxious. It was like someone had grabbed a few of Hunk's personality traits and mixed them up with the rest of him, but he guessed trauma would do that to a person.

Again, he was beyond lucky to not remember much about his imprisonment- or his transformation, for that matter. Just looking at his human clone, he could guess that it had been traumatic.

Suddenly he understood the looks of horror on the paladin's faces when they saw him without his mask for the first time a little better.

X looked up at him, clearly doubtful. "You don't have to lie to me."

Kethe narrowed his eyes. Was he that easy to see through? Or was it because the clone had his memories?

Heaving a short sigh, Kethe glanced up at Shiro. "Sorry, but do you think you could leave the two of us alone for awhile?"

It was clear that the two of them needed to discuss things. But he just... he got the feeling it was better if they did it alone.

For his part, Shiro just gave him a considering look. "You're sure?" He asked, before clarifying, looking down towards the clone. "Are _both_ of you okay with that?"

Kethe blinked, glancing over towards the clone. He hadn't stopped to consider if the _clone_ would be fine with it- but instead of looking hesitant like he thought he would, he just nodded his head. "It's fine. I think he's right. This is something we can only resolve by ourselves."

Shiro stared at them both for a tick longer, before he heaved a sigh, holding up his hands in defeat. "Alright, that's fine. I'll be just outside the hangar if either one of you decides you need me. You two have a good long talk."

Kethe gave him a faint smile. "Thanks, Shiro."

Shiro responded by wordlessly ruffling his hair, ignoring his grumble of protest. He took a moment to fix it, watching as Shiro left the hangar, the doors shutting behind him. Only then did he shift his gaze back to the clone, who caught it out of the corner of his eye, looking back at him as well.

An awkward silence hung between the two of them. He knew they needed to talk, but suddenly he couldn't think where to start. He had put off thinking about it, and now that the time was actually here, everything just seemed so sudden.

"I guess this isn't actually the first time we've met." X finally said.

Kethe shook his head. "No."

"Shiro told me about what happened. At least, some of it." X said. "I guess you know about me too, huh?"

"I've heard a few things." Kethe shrugged, trying to make it sound casual. "I was there when Shiro rescued you, so... kind of hard to miss."

He kind of regretted destroying the prison satellite now, but he hadn't been thinking straight. Pidge had assured him that she'd been able to recover all relevant data, but he still couldn't help but worry that there was something more they had yet to uncover, something they had missed. Why had Haggar abandoned the clone? Wouldn't it be faster to just kill him, if he wasn't what she wanted?

Did his own rescue have anything to do with it?

"Oh," x blinked, "-I was kind of unconscious for most of it. I don't really remember."

Kethe frowned at that. It was hard not to remember how close to death the clone had looked when they had first brought him to the Castle. The pallor the healing pod had cast on his skin definitely didn't help. "You were in pretty bad shape."

"Wasn't exactly popular." X mumbled.

Another awkward silence settled between the two of them, leaving Kethe at a bit of a loss. He kind of wished he had actually taken the time to rehearse this or something. He just... he didn't expect to be drawing as much of a blank as he was.

Looking up, his gaze settled on the red lion. An impulsive thought popped into his head, and he chewed on his lip, debating as to whether or not it was actually a good idea. Leveling his eyes with those of the red lion's, he tilted his head, silently asking for her opinion. He almost thought she would reject it- he remembered how defensive she had been around Allura for those first few movements after he returned to the Castle, like she was somehow afraid the princess would steal her back from him. It was only when she understood that wasn't the case, that she allowed Allura inside of her again.

Instead, the red lion softly purred, encouraging him. Heaving a short sigh, he rubbed the back of his neck, looking back towards the clone. He was staring at his feet, considering his toenails like they were the most fascinating things in the world, which Kethe sincerely doubted.

If Red herself said so, guess he might as well give it a try.

"You want to go in?" Kethe asked.

Startled, X jerked his head up, staring at him in disbelief. "In... you mean the red lion?"

"I don't mean the blue lion." Kethe told hm. "I mean, you don't _have_ to, but-"

Fidgeting with the hem of his tunic, x stared at the red lion. "Are you sure? It's your lion."

It was an echo of his earlier question, one that he hadn't properly answered. Frowning, Kethe considered his words. "Honestly? Not really. Part of me is still worried that you'll steal her from me."

X looked equal parts shocked and horrified, his eyes wide. "I- no. I wouldn't."

Kethe held up his hands, cutting off further protest. "I know."

X stared at him, perplexed. "You know? I thought you said that you-"

"That's just a part of me. The rest of me knows it's stupid, that I'm worried for nothing. The lions don't work that way, and it's pretty obvious that you don't want to steal anything from me." Kethe told him.

"I don't." X shook his head. "Believe me, I don't."

Kethe studied him, tilting his head. Somehow, talking felt a little bit easier now that he had gotten that off his chest. "It wasn't too long ago that I was debating if I should leave Team Voltron and go back to the Blades. I felt like I didn't fit in, didn't belong."

X's brow furrowed. "But you're- you're _supposed_ to be here. I'm not."

Kethe just shrugged. "Yeah, but it didn't feel like it at the time. If you heard about me from Shiro, then you probably know I don't have any memories from before Ulaz rescued me."

X nodded. "Pidge mentioned it."

Kethe quirked a faint grin at that. Right. He'd nearly forgotten that Pidge had just blurted it out. Leave it to her to be as blunt as possible. "Well, it's true. When Ulaz took me in, I had no idea who I was, or even what my name was. I didn't even know I was _Galra_."

"Hell, I didn't even know what a Galra _was_." Kethe continued, letting out a faint laugh. "Ulaz gave me a name and a place with the Blades. I was taught I was Galra. Didn't have any reason to think otherwise. And then I find out several phoebs later that I'm actually part human? That I used to be a paladin? I didn't know what to think."

"I spent _phoebs_ with the Blades building up my own identity from nothing," he said, "-only to have that shattered. Told I was someone else. Not Kethe, but _Keith_."

"Oh," x whispered, realization washing over his features, "-you get it."

Kethe gave him a weak smile. "Maybe not entirely. But... yeah, I do."

X chewed on his lip, his gaze shifting back towards the red lion. "It's in your memories," he told him, "-but actually seeing it, it's... it's nothing like I thought it would be. Better."

"Red's pretty impressive." Kethe earnestly said. "And flying her? It's amazing."

X glanced back towards him, seeming to consider something before he finally spoke. "I don't have any emotional context for your memories. It's... part of what tipped me off that they weren't mine in the first place. But..."

Gazing back up towards the red lion, he stared at her in rapt fascination. "...but I know that much."

Kethe simply stared at him for a long moment, before he too, turned to look at the red lion. "Red was always the only thing that felt _right_. When I was flying Red, I didn't have to think about anything else. Not about who I was, or where I came from, nothing."

"And now?" X asked, looking back at him.

"Now?" Kethe considered it. "Now I know that _I_ have a place here. I don't need to be anyone else. I just have to be me."

X's gaze lingered, a certain yearning in it. "That sounds nice."

Closing his eyes, Kethe smiled. "Yeah. It is."

"Do you think," x chanced, "-do you think I'll ever get there?"

Opening his eyes, Kethe stared down at him. "I don't know. But I think you won't find out unless you try. At least, that's what someone told me."

"Sounds hard." X observed, his lips curling in a tight frown.

In spite of himself, Kethe snorted. "It's super hard. I fought _Zarkon_ , and it's still the hardest thing I've ever had to do."

"Mm," x hummed, "-sounds about right."

"You don't have to do it alone." Kethe told him. "The paladins are... they're weird like that. Supportive. They accepted me even when I wasn't entirely sure who that was."

For a long moment, x did nothing- then slowly, a smile formed on his lips. It was soft, gentle, and quickly hidden by a mess of bangs. "Yeah. I'm starting to get that."

He cracked a smile of his own, folding his arms in front of him. "So- how about it? You want to try," what was that phrase Lance had taught him, "-and take her for a spin?"

He swore the clone nearly choked, staring up at him in sheer disbelief. "You're asking me if I want to _fly_ her? I can't- I don't know _how_ to-"

"You have my memories, right?" Kethe asked. "Means you should know how to fly."

"I- sure." X said. "But I've never actually-"

Again, Kethe just shrugged. "There's a first time for everything. I didn't remember how to fly at first either, but my body did."

In the back of his mind, Red purred, seemingly pleased. Though she had assured him that he would always be her true paladin, he hadn't exactly missed her curiosity in regards to the clone either. He didn't think she would let him pilot her on his own- but with him around? The idea amused her.

And somehow... getting it out in the open had lessened his own paranoia. It sounded silly now, that this clone who wanted to find his own place in the world just as desperately as he once had, would ever want to do it by _stealing_.

He could have. He could have lied to Haggar. Could have stolen his entire identity, his life. Maybe not his lion- what the paladins couldn't see through, she would be able to. But everything else? He could have taken it.

Instead, he'd rejected it. He'd been given everything that he once had been- his appearance, his memories... but he didn't want it. Probably all he wanted was to find his own self. Someone who was _more_ than just Keith Kogane's clone.

"What," Kethe began, glancing down at him, the tip of his tail twitching in playful circles," -don't think you can do it?"

X glared at him. "Is that a challenge?"

"Don't know." Kethe shrugged. "Might be."

X narrowed his eyes, the hard set of them instantly familiar to him. And yet at the same time, it was different, and not just because he looked so much more human. Just in the same way that he wasn't quite the person he'd once been, the clone too, was similar to that person, but different. Who knew? Maybe in time, he'd change even more, become someone completely unrecognizable.

But for now, they were still similar enough for him to know that he hated to lose. Lance's carnival story had been proof enough of that.

"Fine," x said, "-I accept."

* * *

Shiro just stared at the empty hangar, before heaving a long suffering sigh. Guess that roar hadn't been his imagination.

"Right. Should have guessed."

* * *

The red lion was _fast_.

He knew that much from his not-memories, but it was a lot faster than he had anticipated. He almost regretted stepping into its cockpit so soon after breakfast.

Almost.

It was such a rush, that it left him doubled over in the pilot's seat within ten minutes of sitting in it. Keith lingered beside him, visibly concerned, but he held up a hand, slowly drawing in large gulps of air, trying to steady the pounding of his heart, set aflame by the adrenaline coursing through him.

Sure enough, his skills as a pilot were nearly non-existent. He knew how to fly in theory- but he'd never done it before. He didn't have the reflexes, or even the physical strength necessary to truly fly the lion, and he suspected that it had been aiding him all the while, though he had no way to confirm it. It had let him sit in the pilot's seat, and had indulged him enough to allow him to fly, but he couldn't _feel_ the red lion, not in the same way Keith had been able to in his not-memories- and probably still could now.

But still, it was... closing his eyes, he leaned back in the pilot's chair, his hands slipping from the controls. It was _amazing_. He'd never experienced anything like it.

He wanted to do it again.

"I think," he mumbled, peeking an eye open, "-I think I want to fly."

It was his own desire. Maybe it was influenced by the parts of him that were Keith, but he felt it so strongly, so sharply, that it couldn't be anything other than his own.

Keith blinked, before cracking a grin. The contrast of his white teeth against the violet of his fur made his fangs seem more pronounced. "Maybe you should ask Coran to start you off with something a little more tame. Like a pod."

Staring down at his hands, which were still trembling from the amount of exertion just ten minutes at the controls of a lion had taken, he hung his head. Maybe the first thing he should focus on was getting his body into shape. Months of malnourishment on top of severely limited physical activity hadn't done it any favors. "Yeah. That's probably fair."

Keith just huffed, leaning back against the seat, his arms folded in front of him. "Guess you enjoyed it."

"I think I understand why you loved it so much." He told him, clenching his fists.

"Still do." Keith told him. "Don't need my memories to know that much."

Lifting his head, he looked up at him. "So... how much _do_ you know?"

Keith shrugged. "Bits and pieces. For a long time, I wasn't comfortable with people bringing up my past. I'm... still not one hundred percent there yet, actually."

He frowned, furrowing his brows. "Don't you _want_ to know?"

Narrowing his eyes, Keith stared down at his hand. His claws weren't as wicked as some of those he had seen on other Galra- more like really sharp nails. "It's... complicated."

Looking back down at his own hands, his pale skin and overgrown yet blunt nails, he frowned. "Yeah. Guess it would be."

"At least people can tell us apart." Keith said.

"I admit, I was wondering why nobody was confusing the two of us." He said. "But it still feels _wrong_. You should be the one with this face, not me."

Keith just snorted, folding his arms in front of him again. "A phoeb in, Hunk showed me my old face by accident. I nearly had a panic attack. So no, I'm good."

He winced. If there was one thing he could understand, it was having a disconnect with your appearance. His face might be borrowed, but he'd also never had another one. This _was_ him- but at the same time, he was also someone else- or _looked_ like them, at least.

"So... complicated." He said.

"Complicated." Keith echoed. "It's still complicated. Kind of a work in progress."

Pulling his legs up to his chest, he curled his toes around the edge of the pilot's chair. Keith hadn't asked to take it back yet, so for now they were just sort of coasting through empty space. The red lion was flying, he guessed.

"Do you think it'll ever stop being one?" He asked.

"Don't know." Keith admitted, his tail idly twitching behind him in thought. He couldn't help but watch it. It looked a bit like a lion's tail. "Maybe... maybe it's _supposed_ to be this way. Maybe nobody really _stops_ looking for who they are. We just got thrown off track."

He opened his mouth to say that he'd never even _been_ on the track, but closed it. There was almost something comforting in the idea that this was _normal_ \- this search for identity, for belonging. That everyone went through it- and most importantly, that nobody ever stopped looking for them. It made him feel a little less alone.

There probably wasn't anyone like him in the entire universe. A clone, one who had been implanted with the stolen memories of his source material. There probably wasn't anyone quite like Keith either- the closest they came to having someone who understood what they were going through was, ironically enough, each other.

But even so... he closed his eyes, thoughts drifting to the paladins, to Coran- probably even the princess, though he hadn't really had a chance to speak with her yet. Even so, there were people who tried to understand them. Who reached out to them.

He was a clone. He'd been made for one purpose, and had failed even that.

But maybe... maybe he could find a new one. One that was all his own.

That would be nice.

Opening his eyes, he looked back up towards Keith. He was watching him- even without any pupils, it was still somehow obvious. He wondered if the transformation had hurt.

Probably. If he knew one thing about Haggar, it was that she wasn't kind.

"So... what are we, exactly?" He finally asked.

Keith just shrugged. "Don't know. I kind of expected you would hate me."

"I kind of thought that too." He admitted, giving him a weak smile. "Do you?"

Keith considered it for a moment, before shaking his head. "No. Do you?"

He had to think about it too. _Did_ he? It was true that there was probably a small part that resented him- but in a way, the person he resented most only existed within the memories in his head. And even then... he'd been through a lot. Since the memories had been implanted, each one was crystal clear- including ones he was pretty sure Keith would rather forget.

Ironic, considering he had.

"No." He finally said. "I don't."

"I bet if Shiro were here, he'd tell us we have all the time in the world to figure it out." Keith remarked. "He's probably pissed I took the red lion out."

He winced. Yeah. He could sort of imagine that. He wasn't exactly guiltless in all this either, and if he knew anything about Shiro- which he _did_ , thanks Haggar- then he knew he wasn't about to overlook that either. "Maybe we should avoid going back to the Castle for a little longer?"

"He'll probably come after us soon enough." Keith shrugged. "We can do whatever. Red's content like this too."

He frowned, idly stroking the edge of the pilot's chair. He couldn't hear her, so he'd just take his word for it. In a way, it was almost a relief that he couldn't. He might look like him- or look as he once did- but he wasn't him. The red lion recognized that.

But it didn't seem to hate him either. He knew the lions had sentience, so he knew it must be aware that he was an imposter designed to take the place of its paladin- and yet, it hadn't rejected him. He didn't know why- but somehow, that made him kind of happy.

"I didn't realize it at first," he began, unsure of what prompted him to speak, "-that I wasn't you. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't know what."

"What changed?" Keith asked.

"Things didn't add up." He told him. "At first, all I knew was that I had been captured by the Galra- or I _thought_ I had. But there's not much to do in those cells _but_ think, and Haggar was running all kinds of tests... eventually I just started to piece it all together."

"I thought... at first I thought she had done something to me." He said. "Which I guess she did, she made me. Just not what I thought."

Keith hummed. "So what made you realize you were a clone?"

He looked up at him, holding up his hands. "I'm not ambidextrous."

Keith blinked- then blinked again, before letting out a sharp bark of laughter. "I'll admit, that's _not_ what I expected."

He frowned, bristling a bit at his reaction. "What? Don't tell me you never noticed anything weird about yourself."

"For me, it was the tail." Keith confessed, the aforementioned appendage flicking into view. "I could barely even walk without assistance for the first two movements. Nobody at the Blade exactly kept it a secret that my anatomy had been altered. I just didn't realize how much."

He hummed, studying him. "You don't look that different. Just purple. And fuzzy."

"I think Haggar probably wanted to take it farther." Keith observed. "If things had gone the way she had wanted them to..."

He clenched his fist, a complicated expression surfacing on his face as he stared down at it. "You'd be me, and I'd be... someone else entirely, I guess. Someone that was loyal to the Empire."

A shiver ran down his spine. It was obvious what Haggar's original plan had been, when he combined what he knew with what he had learned. That didn't make it any less frightening. She would have used him to infiltrate Voltron and tear them apart from the inside, while she would have used Keith to attack them from the outside.

Together they would have destroyed Voltron- and probably themselves. Nothing more than sacrificial pawns.

"Does it ever scare you?" He asked. "Knowing what could have been."

"It scares the shit out of me." Keith stated frankly.

"Yeah," closing his eyes, he fought back a shudder, "-me too."

* * *

Sure enough, Shiro lectured them both when they returned to the Castle. They had each only half-listened to it- something about putting x in harm's way by letting him do something as reckless as fly the red lion while he was still in recovery. But at the end, Shiro had smiled, asking if they had worked everything out.

They didn't know. They both admitted that much. It would probably take a little longer to figure out where they stood with each other. Shiro just ruffled their hair, told them that was fine. That they had all the time in the world to figure it out.

He didn't understand why they both laughed.

* * *

"What about Gerald?"

"How about _no_?"

Lance frowned, shooting him a dirty look. "You don't have to shoot down _all_ my suggestions, you know."

He just shrugged. "You could try suggesting something that doesn't suck."

"Yeah, he's got you there, sorry bud." Hunk admitted. "Anyways, I vote for Noah."

He considered it. It was better than any of Lance's suggestions, but it still didn't feel right. So she just shook his head.

Four days had passed since he had spoken with Keith. It had taken him that long to work up the courage to bring up the fact that he wanted a name of his own again. In his defense, he'd meant to bring it up a bit sooner, but with all the Coalition work going on, it never seemed like there was any time. He'd been kept pretty busy himself- there were no shortage of air shows to put on, and when he wasn't helping him with that, he was familiarizing himself with the Castle- on his own this time.

Still, when he had brought the subject up to Shiro, he'd thought... he didn't know. Maybe it would be just him and Keith, trying to work it out. He didn't expect _everyone_ to be involved in choosing a name for him.

But everyone it was. They had all gathered in the lounge- it wasn't even just the paladins. Allura and Coran were there, and so was the Blade known as Regris. Only Pidge's brother Matt was absent, too busy with work to be disturbed, though he had apparently thrown Pidge the suggestion of _Matthew Junior_ when she had contacted him about it.

(He'd turned it down, of course.)

"I personally think Yorak would suit him." Regris suggested, only to find several sets of blank eyes turned towards him. "It is a perfectly serviceable Galran name."

He just frowned, squinting at him. He didn't know about having a Galran name- he didn't think he _looked_ Galra enough for one. "I don't know. I think I'd prefer a human name."

"Ugh," Lance rolled his eyes, "-look, you have to pick _something_."

"He can take as much time as he needs to come to a decision." Shiro said. "Don't rush him."

He looked over towards Shiro, grateful, which the black paladin returned with a smile. Exhaling, he looked back at the crowd gathered in the Castle's lounge- all of whom were here for _him_ , he realized with a jolt. The feeling it brought was so overwhelming, so vast, that he struggled for place just what it was.

Happiness, he realized suddenly. He was _happy_.

Oh. It was... it was nice. Nicer than he could have ever imagined. Ducking his head, he fidgeted with the hem of his tunic, for a second too overcome to do anything else.

"You okay?"

Looking up, he met Keith's gaze. There was a faint smile on the red paladin's face, and a look of understanding in his eyes- he wondered if he'd experienced this same feeling of inclusion. He must have, based on what he had told him.

"Yeah," he replied, "-I'm fine."

"Good." Keith said. "Now maybe Lance can stop fooling around and come up with some actual suggestions."

Lance made a squawk of protest. "I've been making excellent suggestions!"

"The first name you threw out was _Eugene_." Pidge pointed out.

"Okay, fine, so that one was a joke." Lance said, rolling his eyes. "But I've been serious about the rest of them!"

"I know some wonderful Altean names that would suit you just fine!" Allura interrupted like she couldn't hold it back any longer, all but brimming with excitement. He almost hated to shoot her down, but somehow he didn't think one of those would suit him either.

"No offense princess, but like I said, I think I'd prefer something a little more human." He told her. "But thanks anyways."

Allura deflated, nearly seeming to pout. "Then what on Earth did I even come here for? I do not know the first thing about your Earth names."

"I guess you could consider it a lesson in Earth culture." Shiro told her, before looking back towards him. "How about Josh?"

He must have made a face, because Shiro just arched a brow. "Okay, maybe not Josh."

"What, you don't have suggestions of your own, mullet?" Lance asked, glancing back at Keith. "He's _your_ clone, maybe you could pick out something he actually likes."

Keith just shrugged. "I'm just as familiar with Earth names as Allura is. Besides, it's not like we're the same person or anything like that."

"Mm, yeah, fair point." Hunk admitted, folding his arms in front of him. "All I can really think of are really traditional Samoan names. Which, they're great names and all, but Keith's not exactly _Samoan_ , so..."

"Yeah, what _is_ Keith anyways?" Pidge asked. "I mean, _other_ than half-Galra, obviously. Shiro, do you know?"

"I always assumed he was at least part Japanese," Shiro said, "-but I never really asked."

Everyone turned to look at Keith, who just shrugged. "Don't look at me."

Everyone turned their eyes towards him next- and he flinched underneath their gaze. Ducking his head, he rubbed his foot against his leg, unable to help _but_ think about it. He knew the answer, after all.

"Only a third." He mumbled, eyes darting up towards Keith, wondering if it was okay for him to be talking about this. He hadn't said anything to stop him, but... "But he was born and raised in Texas."

"Wait," Lance said, "-Keith's from _Texas_?"

Keith just frowned, but looked otherwise unbothered. "I guess? What's Texas?"

Lance groaned, rolling his eyes. "What, do we have to teach you geography too? That's like my worst subject!"

"I thought your worst subject was math." Pidge said.

"We can talk about who gets to teach Keith geography later." Shiro said, before that conversation could get any farther. "Let's just stay on task for now. But thanks," he said, looking towards him with a faint smile, "-that helps narrow things down a little more."

His eyes darted briefly towards Keith, who caught his gaze and merely shrugged. Only then did he let himself exhale. They had discussed a lot of stuff in the red lion, but they hadn't breached the subject of his not-memories- it had been brought up a few times, but he sensed they were both hesitant to go into any depth about them just yet.

One thing at a time.

"It is so quaint that your planet has so many different countries." Allura observed, then apparently thought better of her statement. "In a good way, of course."

"Not to say Altea wasn't without it's own unique regions, each with their own dialects!" Coran chimed in. "Why, when I was a lad, I used to-"

"Let's maybe save that for another time Coran." Shiro cut him off. "We don't want to get distracted."

Coran blinked. "Oh, right. Yes, of course. My apologies."

He just managed a weak smile. He had been working with Coran for long enough to know just how easy it was for him to take off on a tangent. "It's okay."

"I don't really know any Japanese names, though." Pidge admitted, Lance and Hunk nodding in agreement. "Shiro?"

Shiro merely cocked a brow. "I think I know a few."

"Well don't be shy, man!" Lance told him. "Let em rip!"

Heaving a sigh, Shiro turned towards him. "Do you want to hear them? Remember, this is all up to you. Don't let us pressure you into something you don't want."

Chewing on his lip, he slowly nodded. He still wasn't totally used to making decisions of his own, but working with Coran over the past few days had helped a little. "Yeah. Sounds fine."

Shiro just smiled, and began listing off a few names. He listened at full attention, even if he wasn't sure what he was listening _for_ , exactly. He had never thought about _names_. It had all seemed kind of pointless before- what point was there in picking out a name for himself when nobody even knew he existed? Nobody was coming for him- for a long time he just thought he was going to rot away and die in that cell.

But he'd been found. He was _free_ now.

Freedom was... freedom was complex. He had to think about a lot of things now. Things he hadn't needed to consider while he had just been a prisoner. Complex things like identity, simple things like a favorite color, and things that were harder to define- like a name. It sounded like it should be something simple, but it was proving to be otherwise.

Maybe Lance was right. Maybe he _was_ just picky.

It was just... it was _his_ name. He'd never had one before. How was he supposed to know what he wanted? Sure, he could always change it later, but...

"-hi, Akira, To-"

"Wait," He stopped Shiro, looking up, "-go back."

Shiro blinked, but indulged him. "Hiroshi?"

He shook his head. "No, the one after that."

"Akira?" Shiro repeated. "Do you like that one?"

 _Akira_. He shaped the letters silently. It sounded... he wasn't sure what, but something about it sounded _right_. Swallowing, he hesitated for the span of a second, before he drew in a deep breath, squaring his shoulders.

"That one." He said. "I think- I like that one."

"Akira." Shiro repeated, before slowly smiling at him. It sounded more right the second time. "You're sure?"

He nodded. "Yeah. It sounds right, I think."

Shiro's smile only grew. "Guess it's settled then. Why don't you introduce yourself to everyone?"

Just like that. Like they hadn't just spent the past half hour tossing around names. It felt... it felt too easy, almost. Even though he thought it would be at the start, now the ease of his choice felt almost strange. But he didn't think it was wrong.

It just felt _right_.

Drawing in a deep breath, he slowly rose to his feet, facing the waiting crowd. He was only really looking at one person. He hadn't had a name to give before- but he did now. "I'm Akira."

Across the room, Keith met his eyes. "Nice to meet you, Akira."

Akira felt himself smile. There was still so much that was uncertain- but right now, he wasn't thinking about any of that. Right now, in the moment, the future seemed bright, limitless- so much so that he could barely stand to look at it.

But he didn't look away.

"Yeah. It's nice to meet you too."

* * *

abyss of being

(akira) side


	23. naxzela side

As promised, I am back with the new installment! It's time to cover everyone's favorite near-tragedy, Naxzela! I actually ended up writing two different false starts to this installment, and ended up erasing both before I finally settled on doing it like this. And honestly? I'm glad I did. What I ended up with is just so much better than either of the two preceding versions. Sometimes it really is worth it!

It's only a oneshot update this time around- I hope to tackle season five sometime soon. I know there's at least three different perspectives I want to write, none of which should be all that hard to guess. So stay tuned!

* * *

 **abyss of being**

 **naxzela side**

* * *

"Are you sure about this?"

Shifting on his feet, Kethe gave Allura a weak smile. "I'm sure."

Behind him, he heard Shiro sigh. He ignored it, resting a hand on one of the red lion's forelegs, staring up at her. Truthfully, he wanted to be the one to pilot the red lion into battle, but he knew that this time it would be better if it was Allura. The mission that lay before them was one that could make or break the Voltron Coalition- and the entire rebellion against the Galra Empire as well.

If it worked, they would be able to take back one third of the Galra Empire's territory. If it failed...

...then countless numbers of people would lose their lives in vain. People were going to die either way, Keith knew- but at least a victory would give those deaths meaning.

"I'm still not sure if this is a good idea." Shiro said. "This is a critical mission, and you have a stronger bond with the red lion. It should be you, Keith."

Kethe shook his head. "I understand how important this mission is, but that's exactly why Allura needs to be the one flying the red lion. She's its public face. There's no way that she can coordinate the Coalition's assault and pilot the red lion at the same time. People will start to suspect something."

"He does have a point." Allura admitted. "I am afraid we have come too far with this lie to tell the truth now."

Turning back towards Shiro, Kethe watched as he heaved another sigh, this one a lot more resigned than the previous one. "You're not exactly wrong, but this _still_ doesn't feel right. We can't keep lying to the Coalition forever."

"I'm not sure what choice we have." Kethe said. "Though I guess that's my fault."

 _He_ had been the one to insist on the farce in the first place. It had been one of the conditions he'd put before the paladins before he'd joined them- or _re_ joined, as the case may be. The universe wasn't ready to accept a Galra paladin, and it especially wouldn't be ready to accept a paladin who had been imprisoned and tampered with by Haggar, Zarkon's very own witch.

"Just promise me you'll stay safe out there." Shiro said, reaching out to give his shoulder a light squeeze. He didn't flinch away from the touch as he once might have, phoebs ago. "Senfama will be dangerous."

"So will Naxzela." Kethe pointed out. "If anything I'm probably going to be a lot safer now that I'm _not_ going there."

Shiro snorted faintly. "Alright, point taken."

"I'll stay safe." Kethe promised. "You two should try and keep out of trouble yourselves. Especially you, Allura. If Red comes back here with even a single scratch on her..."

Allura merely chuckled, viewing his threat as the farce it was. "I promise, no harm will come to her."

"Good." Kethe nodded, his tail twitching behind him. "I should probably meet up with Kolivan and the other Blades."

"Good luck." Shiro said. "We'll see you on the other side."

Kethe nodded, pausing for a tick to look back up towards the red lion. He could feel her in the back of his mind, a mixture of wishing him well on his mission, and expressing regret that he wouldn't be the one flying her this time. She didn't seem to have any qualms about letting Allura pilot her, but she definitely had a preference.

She never seemed to understand the need for all the farce- _she_ never had a problem with him being Galra. She had known it from the start, even when he'd had a more human appearance, and hadn't known a thing about his maternal heritage. When he made his way back to her, his appearance now more Galra, and having no memories of his paternal heritage, she hadn't thought twice about letting him back in.

From the start, the red lion had been his strongest supporter. Even when he hadn't been able to believe in himself, she had- he didn't know if he could have even gotten through those fist few quintants without her guidance. It had been so hard to navigate the gap between everyone's expectations of him and his reality, but he'd managed thanks to her. On his worst days, he'd been able to retreat into her cockpit, where he didn't have to think about anything- not about being human, or about his forgotten life.

He'd come around to everyone eventually, but for awhile it really had just been him and the red lion.

"Yeah. You should break a knee or whatever." Kethe said.

"Leg." Shiro corrected. "The word you're looking for is _leg_."

"I would rather not break that either, thank you." Allura said quickly, before she paused, crinkling her nose. "Unless that is another one of your strange Earth sayings."

Kethe shrugged. "Lance said it was something you said to wish people good luck."

Although sometimes he wondered if Lance was just making stuff up, taking advantage of the fact that he didn't know any better. Allura was right- a lot of these Earth sayings made no sense. Why would telling someone you wanted them to break their leg give them good luck? It just sounded like you wanted them to be hospitalized and suffer.

And yet, he couldn't stop saying them.

"It does." Shiro assured them. "Although usually it's meant for stuff like stage shows."

"Oh," Kethe frowned, tilting his head, "-good luck, then."

That said, Kethe ducked out of the red lion's hangar. He had already kept Kolivan waiting a little longer than he had intended, and the last thing he wanted was for them to take off for Senfama without him. Maybe he wouldn't be able to fly the red lion this go around, but at the very least, he wanted to be doing _something_.

He grimaced a bit, his thoughts turning to Akira. The clone had made it sound like he was fine staying on the bridge with Coran and helping monitor communications, but they didn't need to be based from the same person for him to know he was lying.

But it was also true that his condition prevented him from doing anything else. It was a testament to just how bad a state he had been in when he'd first arrived that even a full phoeb of proper care had only just begun to put a dent into it. He probably wouldn't even be up and moving around now if it hadn't been for the healing pod.

That, at least, he was doing. He didn't often leave the Castle of Lions, but he had started to become a more regular face around the ship, whereas before he spent most of his time hiding away in his room. He still lived on the detached residential floor by himself, but they were definitely seeing a lot more of him lately, ever since they'd had the chance to talk.

There hadn't been a whole lot of opportunities to do so after he'd picked his name, not with the Naxzela plan beginning in earnest barely even a day after. Between gathering intelligence and building an army, there had barely been time for anyone to have anything close to a personal life.

It had been a welcome change for him, after a phoeb of sitting around and doing nothing. While he couldn't exactly help the other paladins recruit Coalition members, he was able to join the scouting missions- gathering intelligence about the planets that still needed to be freed was of critical importance. They needed to know exactly what they were dealing with, and plan accordingly- if even one strike team failed, they would be facing a potentially dangerous situation.

His task now took him away from the paladins again, but at least it had been of his own choosing this time. He would be joining Kolivan's strike team, which would target the Zaiforge cannon located on the planet of Senfama. They would need to requisition both it and a second cannon, orbiting Teq, before the Coalition forces could advance.

It wasn't flying a lion, but it was no less important.

He briefly considered swinging by the bridge first, to check on Akira, before he dismissed it. It wasn't like he didn't care- he did, actually, to a surprising degree. Hunk had called his odd desire to look after and protect his own clone a _big brother instinct_ , which just sounded a little presumptuous to him. They hadn't exactly managed to figure out where it was they stood with each other, even if having a brother _did_ sound kind of nice.

(He tried not to dwell on the fact that he'd had a brother once before. Shiro was still here- _he_ was the one who had changed.)

So it wasn't that he didn't care. It was just that he didn't have the time.

Besides, Akira had one of the safest roles in the entire operation. The Castle would be all the way back on the other side of the galaxy from Naxzela, far from any actual combat. He could just talk to him when he got back.

* * *

Akira shifted on his feet, his gaze flicking from screen to screen. There were dozens of them on display, each for a different strike team. The most central of them was for Voltron, and right now it was monitoring the real time progress of Pidge and Hunk, who were on their way to disable a vital Galra coms station. If they couldn't, the entire plan would fall apart before it even began, and they would lose their one chance to take Naxzela.

He didn't think they would.

It was a strange kind of confidence, one given to him by memories that weren't his. Some of it was based off his own experience, but most of it came from his implanted memories.

 _Keith's_ memories.

He turned his head, attention fixing itself on the display that had been set up to monitor the pair of Zaiforge cannons. He'd been surprised to learn that Keith _wouldn't_ be joining the paladins- instead, Allura was taking his place as acting red paladin.

"Nervous?" Coran asked, causing him to jump.

Glancing back towards him, Akira nodded. "I guess."

 _Worried_ , more like. This was a dangerous operation. If things went wrong, people could die. The paladins could die.

 _Keith_ could die.

There was a lot of stuff he still wasn't sure about, but he knew he didn't want any of that to happen. He didn't want anyone to die, but Keith least of all- they had barely even had a chance to get to know each other. That, and there was the selfish part of him that was completely _terrified_ of the prospect of him dying, since it meant he would never be free of the burden of his memories, but mostly it was just the fact that he didn't want him to die.

But he didn't say that. Couldn't, actually. He was slowly starting to understand what Keith had said when he told him that the paladins were an odd bunch, but he still had trouble grasping the idea that he was allowed to be worried about them. He didn't want to assume that they were all friends just because he had the face and memories of someone they all knew.

Well, sort of. It was complicated.

"Can't say I blame you!" Coran said. "Why, it's been ten thousand deca-phoebs since I was last involved with anything of _this_ scale!"

Akira blinked, taking a second to register that as a joke. Ten thousand years was a lot of time for someone who had barely even existed for _one_ \- his eighteen years of not-memories aside.

"I just wish I could be doing something _more_." Akira mumbled, a hand straying down to the hem of his Olkari tunic. It was made of pretty sturdy stuff, but it was already starting to fray at the edges from all his constant fiddling- maybe once this was over, he could ask Coran if he could go through the clothing stores again to find something that wouldn't.

(He could just stop fiddling, but that sounded hard.)

He'd gone through them once before, looking for a pair of shoes. He'd found a pair of long boots whose bright orange and aquamarine color scheme had caught his eye and had fallen instantly in love with them. It didn't hurt that the material they were made of was both sturdy and comfortable, a world away from what he'd had when he was a Galra prisoner.

He quickly discovered that Lance, at least, not only hated the color scheme, but was also incredibly vocal of that fact. He'd done his best to shrug it off- it wasn't his problem if Lance had no fashion sense. If anyone else took issue with his choice, they at least had the tact not to say anything.

(He was confident it was Lance who had no fashion sense, not him. How could he when he wore such dull colors? They were so _boring_.)

"Ah, lad," Coran said, patting him on the shoulder, "-I know how you feel. But I promise, you're doing more than you think you are."

Akira frowned, staring at his feet. It didn't _feel_ that way.

He knew the reality was that there just wasn't much else he could do. He knew how to fly in theory, but his first lesson with Coran had been an almost literal crash course in just how much the red lion had been guiding him. He just didn't have the reflexes or the instincts, but kept thinking he did, conflating his not-memories with actual memories in the heat of the moment.

Fighting was completely out of the question. He'd never thrown a single punch in his admittedly short life, and though he was confident that he knew _how_ , right now he couldn't beat an _Arusian_ , nevermind a Galra. He just hadn't recovered anywhere near enough for any kind of intense physical activity, which going to war definitely was.

Unfortunately for him, he'd entered the stage of his recovery where he was just well enough for that to chafe at him. He felt like he should be doing something more than he was- especially since the reason he had been created in the first place was to help destroy Voltron. He wanted to prove that he was more than that- that even if he wasn't a paladin (and he wasn't sure he even _wanted_ to be)- he could still be a vital asset to the resistance.

"Yeah," Akira said, his words clipped, "-guess you're right."

Coran's smile was weak, like he sensed he didn't quite buy his sentiment. But he didn't say anything, instead patting his shoulder again and breaking away.

Akira sighed, turning his attention back towards the screen that monitored the Zaiforge cannons. Feeling powerless wasn't exactly something he was unfamiliar with- that had pretty much been his entire life while he'd been confined to that cell. He just wished he could _stop_ feeling that way.

Breathing in, Akira squared his shoulders. _Patience yields focus_. He knew those word weren't meant for him, and yet he still found himself drawing strength from them sometimes.

He'd get there. He would. He just had to be patient first.

(Being patient, he quickly decided, sucked.)

* * *

"We've reached Senfama."

In spite of himself, Shiro managed to crack a smile at the sound of Keith's voice on the coms. "Good to hear it. Pidge and Hunk have just about reached the rendezvous point. We'll begin our assault on Naxzela as soon as you've acquired the cannon on Senfama."

"So no pressure." Keith half-joked.

"No pressure." Shiro assured him. "Good luck."

"With Kolivan in charge?" Keith asked. "I don't think we'll need luck."

He actually chuckled at that. He'd had the privilege of seeing Kolivan in action only a handful of times, but that had been enough. He wasn't just a skilled leader, but was also an excellent fighter- maybe not on par with Zarkon, but he suspected the Galra Emperor was being unfairly fueled by quintessence.

Keith might not be on the mission with them, but they still had him linked up to their coms. They also had the main coms, but this was a separate line, one that wouldn't be picked up by the rest of the Coalition. They still knew him strictly as Kethe, the Blade of Marmora's liaison to Voltron.

"Is he really that good?" Akira's voice suddenly cracked over the coms, surprising pretty much everyone, who hadn't expected him to talk much.

"Regris says there's only one combatant in the Blade of Marmora that's better than him." Keith stated. "So yeah, he's pretty good."

Shiro's smile fell a bit at the mention of the Blade. He was in charge of leading one of the liberation strike teams. Pidge and Hunk had finally finished a rudimentary prosthetic for his missing tail, and while a week wasn't anywhere near enough time to completely adjust to it, he'd still chosen to throw himself into the fray. He was kind of surprised how worried he was about him, since he'd sort of been avoiding him through no fault of Regris' own.

Talking to the person he felt had replaced him was just... awkward. So he didn't.

"Okay, is it just me, or is anyone else having trouble telling the twin's voices apart?" Lance asked.

"We're not twins." Keith replied, almost automatically.

"Well I can't call you both _clones_ ," Lance said, and he could almost hear him roll his eyes, "-since only one of you is actually a clone. So twins."

Akira's meek reply was drowned out by Hunk, who hadn't so much tried to cut him off as it was just that he had chosen to start speaking at the same time he did. "I don't know, they sound kind of different. Akira's raspier."

"Gee, thanks." Akira rasped.

"It's probably just the trauma." Shiro tried to reassure him. Hunk did have a point though- Akira's voice _was_ a bit raspier than Keith's. "I wouldn't worry about it."

"Well I still think they're too close. It's confusing." Lance huffed. "Pidge, do you think you can rig up like, some kind of voice modulator thingy or something?"

"We're about to go into a life or death battle, and you want me to whip up a voice modulator." Pidge dryly remarked. "I mean I _could_ , but that doesn't exactly seem like the best use of my time right now. Besides, Hunk's right. They do sound different."

Lance grumbled. "Okay, fine. I get it."

"Paladins," Allura lightly chimed in, "-not to interrupt, but we should probably try and be a little more focused on the task at hand."

"Allura's right." Shiro said. "Naxzela's going to be tough. We'll need to focus all of our attention on it."

"I'll let you know as soon as the Senfama cannon is ours." Coran piped up. "Good luck, princess."

"Thank you, Coran." Allura said.

"What, no good luck wishes for us?" Lance asked.

"Oh, right. Good luck, paladins!" Coran said, almost as an afterthought.

"...luck." Akira mumbled, half unheard over Coran's more boastful wish.

Shiro smiled to himself. Maybe this situation wasn't ideal, but right now, he didn't think about that. Instead he focused on what a sign of progress even that meek wish of good luck was for Akira. The ugly feelings of loss were kept at bay by the brighter feelings of anticipation, and his desire to see how far Akira would come over these next few weeks.

Of course, he needed to make it back from Naxzela alive to see any of that. Resolved, Shiro drew in a deep breath, feeling his bond with the black lion.

"Alright, paladins," Shiro said, "-let's start our approach."

* * *

For a time, everything seemed to be proceeding smoothly, or close enough to it.

They'd had some trouble with the Zaiforge cannon orbiting Teq- the rebel forces just didn't have the firepower to break through the shields on the cannon's defensive turrets. Thankfully, they'd been able to obtain the Senfama cannon for their usage, and that _definitely_ had more than enough of the required firepower to break through the shields.

By the time the com station came back online, nearly every Galra occupied planet had been either pacified or totally liberated by the Coalition forces. There were no Galra left to send out distress signals- except for Naxzela.

Naxzela was taking a little longer.

Anxiously glancing up towards the sky, Kethe's tail twitched behind him. _Someone_ had responded to Naxzela's distress call- but it was only just a single cruiser. What worried him is that whoever was in command of it clearly had the authority to remotely shut down both Zaiforge cannons. He hoped it was just some high ranking commander, and not Zarkon himself. He should still be distracted with searching for Lotor.

"Any word from Voltron?" Kethe asked.

"Nothing." Akira replied, a few ticks shy of a prompt response. "We're picking up a lot of magnetic distortion from Naxzela. Coran says that could be blocking communications."

Kethe frowned. Somehow he didn't like the sound of that. He suddenly regretted not joining them, letting his fear of exposure get the better of him. He knew Allura was more than a capable pilot- she'd been piloting the red lion for several phoebs while he had been missing in action- but just sitting here, waiting for something to happen didn't feel right.

Heaving a sigh, his shoulders slumped. He was the one who'd chosen this- he couldn't regret his decision now.

Besides, he was sure they were fine. It was just one cruiser, and even Shiro had said that it was almost too late. By the time it got within firing distance, Naxzela would probably already be secure.

So why didn't it feel that way?

* * *

Much as she never let it get the better of her, Allura was no stranger to fear.

There had been the more trivial fears of her youth- which all felt rather silly to her now, but had been very real to her then. As she grew older, so did her fears- and when the war began, they had blossomed, almost taking on a life of their own. When she woke to a universe at war ten thousand deca-phoebs later, that same fear woke with her.

But she never let it control her. They had faced dire situations before, and had always somehow managed to come out of them- if not always on top. She had known from the start that the bigger the plan, the higher the stakes were- so it wasn't that she thought taking back one third of the Galra Empire would be easy. Far from it.

She had just underestimated the lengths the Galra were willing to go to in order to win.

"Victory or death." Allura breathed. "We should have anticipated something like this."

"We couldn't have known about the terraforming facility. This isn't your fault, Allura." Lance tried to reassure her, even as they raced upwards, sentries hot on their heels.

It was an easy task for the moment- the inside of the massive rods that ran down into the planet's core seemed to be the only place free from the gravitational effects of the energy field that now covered Naxzela.

"I know." Allura admitted. "Right now we have to focus on getting out of here and warning everyone."

Easier said than done- their earlier attempt had been to no avail. Even worse, she suspected that the energy field that kept them trapped here would also prevent them from contacting the outside world. She could only hope that someone would notice that something was wrong, and find the source of it. She had tried shutting down the terraforming plant, but it had been to no avail- whatever was powering them was stronger than she was.

She suspected she knew just who it was.

"It _has_ to be that cruiser." Pidge said. "If we can just find some way to take it out-"

"Yeah, but we have to find a way to get off Naxzela first." Hunk reminded her. "Shiro? Any ideas?"

Shiro shook his head, his expression grim. "I don't know. But we have to keep trying."

"I can't get in touch with anyone either." Pidge said, confirming her worst fears. "Maybe once we get out of this rod and back to our lions, I might be able to, but somehow I doubt it."

Allura bit her lip. The situation was looking grimmer by the second. She had to wonder if Naxzela was a trap from the very beginning- if the only reason the Galra had allowed them to take back so much occupied territory was because they knew they would eventually have to target Naxzela. And when they did...

Pidge's projections had been very grim indeed.

If they didn't manage to stop it, then several solar systems would be destroyed in the ensuing explosion. Coran and the rebels on the farthest fringes might survive, as would the rebel and Blade strike teams sent to take over the Zaiforge cannons. But anyone else-

-wait. Hold on a tick.

"I _think_ I may know a way to get word out." Allura said.

"We're listening." Shiro told her.

"Keith and I both have a connection to the red lion. If I can tap into that, I might be able to send him a message." Allura explained.

"Do you think that'll work?" Hunk asked. "I mean, he's all the way on Senfama, right? That's pretty far."

"I cannot say for certain." Allura admitted. "It has never been tried before."

Then again, there had never been two _active_ paladins for one lion before either. The situation with Zarkon and the black lion had been quite different from the shared arrangement she had worked out with Keith.

"It's worth a shot." Shiro said. "The faster we can warn everyone, the better our chances are."

Allura nodded. Lance and Hunk each offered her a hand, and she took them without thinking about it. She gripped them both tight as they came up to the planet's surface, allowing them to guide her as she attempted to tap into her bond with the red lion, reaching out in hopes of being able to connect with Keith.

She could feel the red lion, and after a few ticks of struggle, she could feel Keith, too. For a tick she swore she felt someone else aside from him, but they slipped from the connection quickly enough and she just didn't have the time to worry about anything other the message she needed to send.

Reaching out to Keith, she prayed that it would be enough. She couldn't let the plan that should have been the start of their salvation become the instrument of their demise.

* * *

Later, when everything was over, Kolivan would tell him that his body had gone completely rigid upon receiving Allura's message. It wasn't something he realized at the time, or even after, suddenly and without warning feeling as if he had been flung from his own body. He tried to open his eyes, but couldn't- the only thing that kept him from panicking was the fact that he could feel the comforting rumble of the red lion.

 _"Keith."_

It took him a second to recognize it as Allura's voice. It sounded distorted. He tried to open his mouth to call out to her, but he couldn't.

 _"Keith, if you can hear me, then you need to listen to me."_ Allura continued, seemingly without waiting for a reply. _"Naxzela is a bomb. We believe that cruiser that was approaching Naxzela has something to do with it."_

There was a pause then, though somehow he could sense that Allura was still there.

 _"Haggar is there."_

Kethe's eyes snapped open, their connection snapping with it. He could feel his blood boiling inside of hm, the edges of his vision turning red.

 _Haggar_.

He remembered next to nothing of his time as Haggar's prisoner, a small mercy given what she had done to him. Ever since he had first glimpsed his human face, he was certain that his transformation into a Galra had been painful. Meeting his clone had only further cemented that.

His memory of his time with her might be long gone, irretrievable, but the feelings were still there. Anger, hate, and a gnawing fear that he didn't want to admit to feeling, a terror that had likely grown slowly, once he realized what was being done to him. Though distant to him now, he could still remember the terror of waking up and realizing he knew nothing at all- not about himself, nor even where he was or _what_ he was.

The only thing he had known was fear and hate for the witch.

He took in a deep gulp of breath, burying them. He didn't understand what Allura meant by Naxzela being a bomb, but he'd understood the latter part of her message clearly enough. The cruiser had stopped, just shy of Naxzela, which in itself was pretty suspicious. Allura's warning had just confirmed it.

After a quick exchange with Kolivan, he found himself a ship. A Galra fighter, which wouldn't do much good alone. He didn't understand what was going on, but he knew he needed help.

"Matt?" Kethe began, opening a com line to the Zaiforge cannon that was orbiting Teq. "I think we have a problem."

"What kind of problem?" Matt asked.

"I don't know." Kethe shook his head, before remembering he couldn't see it. "I got a weird message from Allura. Something about Naxzela being a bomb."

"A bomb!?" Coran yelled, and Kethe nearly jumped out of his skin, his tail sticking straight up, the fur at its tip puffing up. "What do you mean, a bomb?!"

Right. He'd forgotten Coran was on the paladin line too- a line which aside from his link to the Castle, was almost eerily silent.

"Like I said, I don't know." Kethe told him. "All I know is that we have to stop that cruiser."

"Copy that." Matt said. He could sense the tension in his voice. He was probably worried about his sister. "We're right behind you."

"Thanks." Kethe said- and he meant it. A single Galra fighter just didn't have the firepower necessary to take down a Galra cruiser on its own. But with the rebel ships backing him up, he might have a chance.

"Also," and this he only said after switching to the paladin-only line, "-we think Haggar is there."

There was a lengthy pause of silence, until Akira's voice broke it. "Haggar?"

That single name was filled with emotion. There was the anger, the hate, the fear that Kethe himself was so familiar with- but also an underlying note of pain that he didn't, and probably couldn't understand. They had both suffered at the hands of Haggar, and had both, in a sense, been made by her- but Akira had been _literally_ so.

Made, and then tossed out like scrap when he wasn't what she wanted.

"Be careful, Keith." Coran warned. "You know what happened the last time you-"

"I know." Kethe cut him off. He didn't need a reminder. "I'll be careful."

Akira said nothing. He bit down on his lip, debating asking him if he was alright, but that seemed like something that should be done on private. Not on a com line that was shared by multiple people, even if he couldn't get into contact with most of them. It didn't feel right.

Coran was there, he reassured himself. He was perceptive. If something was wrong, he'd notice. He just needed to concentrate on that cruiser.

 _Just_ on the cruiser, he reminded himself. No matter how much he wanted Haggar dead, his priority was doing what he could to stop that bomb. He couldn't let it hurt the paladins or the princess. Not after he had finally found his place among them, after so much self-doubt and struggle.

He had sworn to do whatever it took to protect it- and them- and he meant every word of it.

* * *

Sure enough, Akira's gaze was rooted on the screen with the cruiser.

His already pale skin was even paler, and for a tick, Coran wasn't sure the lad was even breathing. Then slowly, his chest rose then fell, and Coran felt himself take a breath of relief at the sight. Akira's lips moved, but no sound came out. Coran was willing to bet anything that what he had silently mouthed was none other than Haggar's name.

Coran frowned, looking between him and the screen which monitored Voltron. It was currently offline- at first he thought it was simply due to the magnetic distortion from Naxzela, but now he wasn't so sure. Or perhaps it _was_ offline due to that, but it was the _reason_ for the distortion that he should be concerned about. He wasn't sure how Allura had sent a message to Keith, but he saw no reason to doubt it.

He wanted to, though. If Naxzela was truly a bomb, then it would come with a massive detonation. He couldn't imagine how much damage something like that could do.

And Allura was right in the middle of it.

Yet here he was, all the way on the other side of the galaxy. He didn't even have enough of Allura's essence left to work the teleduv, otherwise he would be on his way to Naxzela in the blink of an eye. From here, there was nothing he could do.

Not about Naxzela, anyways.

Looking back towards Akira, Coran's frown deepened. If just hearing Haggar's name had thrown him into this deep a state of shock, then clearly his trauma was worse than he could have possibly imagined. He couldn't imagine just what sort of feelings he held for Zarkon's witch.

"Akira-"

"What if she knows I'm here?" Akira suddenly spoke, cutting him off.

Coran frowned, moving to stand next to him. "Haggar, you mean?"

Akira opened his mouth to say something, but either he decided against it, or he couldn't. He shut it, nodding his head, his eyes disappearing behind a veil of hair.

"We've no reason to think she would." Coran assured him. "The scans-"

"What if the scans are wrong?" Akira asked. "What if-"

Coran placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, shaking his head. Though Akira flinched under his touch, he let it remain there. "No good comes from going down that path."

Akira looked up, peeking out from behind his bangs. Even under the bright light of the Castle's crystal, his eyes appeared dim. The effect was a bit eerie, if he was perfectly honest, sending his mind back to a different time, long before any of the paladins had been born, before the war.

Though they had the technology to do so, cloning had been banned on Altea- and Daibazaal as well, as a matter of fact. It was believed that creating an exact replica of any living being went against the will of the Ancients. There was only one soul for each person, so if another was created in the exact image as someone who already existed, there would either be no soul left for them, or the soul would simply split in two, leaving each with only half.

But that was a dangerous path of thought too, Coran thought, pushing such recollections aside. He found it difficult to believe that Akira didn't possess a soul of his own, though he had been made expressly to take the place of another person. Even if he somehow didn't, it didn't really matter, and it was hardly something he would hold against him. He hadn't asked to be born, thrust into the image of another.

"I still don't like this." Akira said, biting down on his lip. "Can't we do something?"

"Not from this distance, I'm afraid." Coran shook his head. "We can only pray that everything will be alright."

Narrowing his eyes, Akira looked away from the screen with the cruiser, and back towards the one tracking Voltron. "That doesn't feel like enough."

"No," Coran admitted, "-I suppose it doesn't. But it's all we can do."

Akira said nothing to that, just clenched his fists. He didn't miss the way they trembled, though he wasn't sure if it was out of frustration or worry.

Both, perhaps.

"They'll be alright, lad." Coran reassured him, trying to bury his own rising feelings of anxiety and dread, and along with it, the fear that they very much wouldn't be. "You just have to have faith."

* * *

He'd been an idiot.

He had thought that having the rebel fleet along with him would be enough firepower to take down the Galra cruiser, but he'd been wrong. Far from taking it down, they couldn't even break the shield around the weapon that was attached to the cruiser, which he was almost positive had something to do with Naxzela.

He tried to take a cold comfort in the fact that Voltron had escaped, but he couldn't. He knew Voltron's capabilities. They wouldn't make it in time. Naxzela would go off, and they would die.

They would _all_ die.

Lifting his head, Kethe looked towards the shield. It taunted him, flickering a little every time a shot hit it, but he knew no damage was actually being done. Even if they concentrated all their firepower on one spot, it still wouldn't be enough. The Castle might be able to break through, but it was all the way on the other side of the galaxy. It couldn't get here in time.

But there was _one_ thing capable of breaking through the shield, and he was sitting right in it.

Drawing in a deep breath, Kethe tried to calm his thoughts even as he scrambled to think of another option. But there wasn't one. This was the only way.

Swallowing, he drew in another breath, and nearly choked on it. He didn't understand how Ulaz and Thace had been able to do it. How so many Blades before him had been able to do it- to face down the knowledge that they would have to give their life for the cause. Were they just as terrified as he was? Did they scream, curse their fate, or did they simply go silently into the night, knowing that their death would set the universe back towards the right path?

He didn't want to do it, but he couldn't think of another way. Voltron wouldn't get here in time.

This was the only way.

His hands shook, but his grip didn't falter. Turning his ship around before he could change his mind, Kethe angled it at the cruiser, at its strange weapon. In that moment, he knew that he wouldn't survive this- but if he didn't do something, then thousands of people would die.

His _friends_ would die.

Better him, he thought, better him than anyone else, especially his friends. Even if he was gone, Allura would be able to pilot the red lion in his place. He felt bad about leaving things unresolved with Akira, but maybe this was for the best.

With one hand, he switched off the coms. Matt had figured out what he was trying to do, and it wouldn't be long before everyone else tried to talk him out of it too. With the resolve that action had given him, he drew in what he thought would be his final breath, and set himself on a collision course.

He wondered if he'd see Ulaz again.

* * *

"Keith," Allura breathed, her eyes wide with horror, as the red lion roared with fury and despair, "- _no_."

* * *

He didn't know how he did it, but somehow, Kethe held it together until he reached the Castle of Lions. Some part of him realized that he was in shock, having been just seconds away from death before Lotor arrived, turning the tide in a single shot. He had just barely managed to pull up in time to avoid being engulfed in the ensuing fireball.

He was in a daze as he landed his stolen fighter in the main hangar, stumbling out of it like he was just learning to walk all over again. He didn't notice anyone enter, much less enter his personal space- but he definitely noticed the right hook. It served to snap him back to reality, yanking him out from his dazed state.

Taking in a long, shuddering breath, Kethe raised a hand to his cheek. It stung, but judging from the way he was nursing his fist, the punch had hurt Akira a lot more than it did him.

"What were you _thinking_!?" Akira demanded, for once putting his multitude of anxieties aside to just be _angry_. "You could have- you could have died!"

 _Died_. He could have. He _could_ have died. He thought he knew that when he'd made up his mind, but hearing someone else say it brought it back home to him. He felt his legs give out underneath him, like they suddenly couldn't hold his weight anymore.

"I thought," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, "-I thought there was no other choice."

All of the anger vanished from Akira's face, as he sunk to the floor next to him, though not because his legs had given out. He hesitated at first, before he reached out, clinging to him in what wasn't quite a hug, but was a little more than a firm shoulder touch- like he wanted to do the former, but was too afraid to.

"It's okay," Akira mumbled into his hair, "-you're alive."

He _was_ alive. Slowly, Kethe nodded his head, taking in another shuddering breath, feeling his heart pound in his chest. The numbness faded from his limbs, though he simply left his arms by his side, uncertain if he should return the not-quite-an-embrace or not.

There was an invisible boundary between them that neither was sure if they should cross. Not yet.

"I didn't want to die." Kethe mumbled. "I just couldn't think of another way."

Akira didn't say anything to that, just nodded. After a few ticks, he pulled away- a bit abruptly too. He tensed, like he was expecting some sort of reprimand, but when nothing came, he quickly relaxed. Slowly getting to his feet, he silently offered his hand. Kethe took it, and although Akira stumbled a bit due to the extra weight, he managed to stay upright.

"Thank you." Kethe said, looking down at him. "You didn't have to come."

Akira just shook his head. "I don't want you to die either."

Kethe blinked, but before he got a chance to say anything more to him, the doors to the hangar flew open. Shiro was at the head of the pack, but the rest of the paladins were right behind him- though none of them were running quite as fast as their leader was. Akira barely got out of the way in time to avoid being caught in the crossfire, Shiro dragging him into a crushing embrace.

"Shi-"

"Please," Shiro whispered, "-please don't do that again."

Shiro's arms were uncomfortably tight around him. For a tick, the sensation thrust him to a different time and place, a fuzzy, half-recalled memory that barely existed beyond the feeling of an equally tight embrace and the smell of disinfectant. Then he was back on the Castle of Lions, the paladins clustered around him, trying to get in on the action.

Shiro's crushing embrace gave way a bit, just enough to let everyone else in. Akira hovered off to the side, looking a little bewildered, until Pidge grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him into the pile. He made a faint yelp, but quickly seemed to succumb to the pressure, one of his hands just faintly brushing against his side.

It was almost unbearably warm in the center of the group hug, even though his Blade armor was designed to regulate his body temperature. He'd had to coil his tail around his leg to keep it from being crushed, and he could barely even breathe. He was almost certain his knife sheath was pressed uncomfortably into someone's armored shin, just like someone's armored shin was pressed uncomfortably into him.

He'd never been more comfortable in his life.

"Okay," Kethe whispered, slowly closing his eyes and letting himself sink into the embrace, "-I won't."


	24. lotor side

Phew! This went from being a straight-forward Lotor POV chapter in the style of earlier installments of this series, but as you can see, it kind of took off from there. We do at least get Lotor's POV in this chapter, and we'll see more of him in the future! The plan out of the gate is to cover the first half of season five, from the aftermath of Naxzela to the aftermath of the virus on Olkarion.

What that does mean is that there won't be any Krolia this go around, which I know a lot of you have been waiting for- and believe me, I have too! But I also felt like it would better to devote a full installment to her, rather than dumping her on the end of everything else from season five. So just stayed tuned, because I'll get there eventually! In the meantime, please enjoy the first half of season five. I'm not *quite* sure how many chapters this will take, but my starting number right now is four. We'll see how that turns out!

* * *

 **abyss of being**

 **lotor side**

* * *

"As much as I hate to be the one to break up a group hug," Hunk began, "-don't we have to like, deal with Lotor?"

Inside the paladin pile, Kethe grimaced. He hadn't exactly forgotten that Lotor was the only reason he was still alive now. If he hadn't shown up when he had...

Kethe swallowed. He didn't want to think about that.

"Can't we just leave the rebels to deal with him?" Pidge asked- and he didn't miss the way that she managed to find his hand within the pile, giving it a tight, reassuring squeeze. "I'm sure Matt and Coran have it handled."

"Unfortunately, Hunk's right." Shiro said. "I know the timing isn't ideal, but..."

"Not ideal?" Lance asked. "Keith nearly smashed himself to pieces and we're talking about entering negotiations with the Galran prince? I say we let him sweat awhile first."

"He _did_ save Keith's life." Hunk hesitantly suggested. "I mean, he totally didn't do it on purpose, but that's still what happened."

There was silence at his words, awkward and heavy. Suddenly the paladin pile felt more like a comforting refuge and more like the crushing mass of bodies it actually was. It dawned on him that the paladins were just as put out as he was by the fact that it had been _Lotor_ who had essentially saved his life. He was glad not to be dead, but he didn't know how to feel about owing the Galra prince, exiled or not, a debt like that.

"I don't like it either," Allura admitted, the first paladin to draw away from the pile, if somewhat reluctantly, "-but Shiro and Hunk are correct. We do at least need to open this... _discussion_ he claims to desire, if nothing else."

The rest of the pile followed suit, gradually separating itself back into its individual components. It was a bit like Voltron itself, Kethe caught himself thinking- just with two extra paladins. Glancing Akira's way, he caught the clone's gaze. He guessed he technically wasn't a paladin, but it didn't feel right to think of him otherwise.

Maybe Lance had been on to something with the whole _twin_ thing.

Slowly uncurling his tail from around his leg, Kethe took in a deep breath. "So what's the plan?"

"You," Shiro said, lingering concern plainly visible in his eyes, "-aren't going to do anything. You nearly died out there, Keith. It's okay if you want to give yourself a bit of a break after that."

"I'm fine." Kethe lied. He wasn't, but he didn't think taking a break would help. "I need to be there, Shiro. Besides, it'll be awhile before Kolivan can make it back from Senfama, and Regris is even further out. You're going to need someone from the Blade there."

Shiro stared at him for a few ticks, before he let out a long sigh. "Alright. But if you start not feeling well-"

"I'll leave." Kethe promised.

Shiro nodded. "Okay. Akira? What about you?"

Blinking owlishly, Akira stared at Shiro in surprise, like he hadn't expected to be included in this. "Me?"

"Is there another Akira here?" Shiro asked, nearly managing to sound jovial despite the circumstances.

Akira opened his mouth to reply, before he quickly shut it. "I don't know. I don't think I should."

"In that case, you don't have to." Shiro assured him. "Why don't you go help Coran? I'm sure he can find something for you to do."

"I believe he should still be in the main hangar." Allura supplied. "I instructed him to examine Lotor's ship."

"How much do you think he knows?" Akira asked, vaguely gesturing between himself and Kethe, and then towards Allura. "About us, I mean."

They lapsed into silence, glancing awkwardly between one another. With everything else that was going on, it hadn't even occurred to them to think about that, but Akira was right- how much _did_ Lotor know about them? The Galra Empire thus far had made no efforts to refute the claim that Allura was the red lion's paladin, so they had come to conclusion that no one outside of Haggar had been aware of the full extent of her plans. There had even been Galra who had been shocked to see him in the red paladin's armor.

But Lotor wasn't just any imperial soldier. He might be exiled now, but he had been emperor once, however temporarily. They had to consider that there might be a chance he knew.

"We'll just have to play that one by ear." Shiro said, with a reluctance to his tone that hinted at the fact that he still didn't care for the continued deception. He couldn't blame him- in a way, it had almost cost him his life.

"Just in case, I told Matt to bring Rolo and Nyma with him." Pidge chimed in. "They already know."

The two names only sounded vaguely familiar to him- he'd heard them mentioned in passing when they had first shown up to join the resistance. Something about them having stolen the blue lion in the past, and therefore having met him before he'd fallen into Haggar's hands. They'd been briefed on the situation, and had been sworn to secrecy.

"Got it." Kethe said. "Thanks, Pidge."

Kethe glanced over towards Akira. He'd been staring at his feet, but peered up at him when he felt him looking. He managed a weak, awkward smile, but it was clear he was worrying that he had just brought them all more trouble again.

He knew the feeling.

* * *

He was unsure what to expect when he landed his ship within the Castle of Lions, but it wasn't a tiny reception consisting of mostly rebel fighters. There was no sign of any of the paladins- the closest thing to them he could find was a single Altean, not even the princess. Narrowing his eyes, Lotor made his way cautiously out of his ship, on his guard. He did not think the paladins would be so unwilling to listen to his request to open up a conversation, considering the fact that he had just saved all of their lives.

The lone human in the party, whom he recognized as one of the three that his father had captured on the edge of their own solar system, stepped forward. He looked cross, if not somewhat distracted, as if his mind was half on something else. Lotor couldn't help but frown- while he didn't expect to be greeted as if he were a hero, this was hardly the reception he'd been anticipating.

"Hands where we can see them." The human instructed.

Lotor complied, holding his hands up in what he hoped was a universal gesture of surrender. It seemed the human was leading the small reception party, and all he had been able to gather about their planet was that they were so backwater, they hadn't even been able to create the technology necessary to leave their own system yet.

How quaint that four out of the five should be paladins of Voltron, then.

(He supposed the fifth had Earthly origins as well, but it was only his Galra heritage that interested him.)

"Matthew Holt, correct?" Lotor asked, recalling the name he had read on one of the prisoner transfer logs. Actual names were rarely used, but they weren't impossible to find.

The human narrowed his eyes. "I go by Matt, actually."

Ah, a nickname. How truly quaint.

"Matt, then." Lotor said. "Forgive me, but I expected to be met by the paladins."

"Yeah, well, they're busy at the moment." Matt said. "Until then, the one you'll be dealing with is me."

Lotor inclined his brow a fraction of an inch, but said nothing. He had the feeling that inquiring further would not go well.

"Very well." Lotor said, taking a step forward, his hands still raised in surrender. "As promised, I am here to turn myself over to the Voltron Coalition."

Matt frowned, before gesturing towards him with his head. A pair of rebels cautiously began to approach him, presumably to search him and strip him of any weapons. He allowed them, knowing that they would find little else aside from his sword. With that removed, they stepped back, well out of arm's reach.

"You can lower your hands now." Matt said.

Lotor did as he was told, not at all surprised when one of the rebels passed Matt a pair of cuffs. He didn't protest as he put them on him, though he was slightly surprised he chose to do it himself. If he had to be honest, the rough way in which he handled him was actually a bit painful, but up close Lotor sensed that his anger wasn't actually directed towards him, like he first suspected it was.

Curious.

Up close, he also noted the resemblance he bore to the green paladin. The small human hadn't truly captured his interest, but he was nevertheless familiar with her face. He couldn't help but wonder if they were perhaps related- siblings, perhaps. He made a mental note of that, filing it away with the information he had in regards to the third human taken from that same icy moon. Perhaps it would prove useful in time.

Not that he would _be_ there when they went to rescue him. He might have not been aware of the green paladin's possible connection to the human named Samuel Holt at the time, but he was more than aware of his connection to the current black paladin and former Champion. That was enough.

But of course, the paladins didn't have to know that.

"Come with me." Matt told him, before glancing back towards the Altean. "Coran, can you handle things here?"

"Oh, I reckon I can manage." The Altean- _Coran_ \- said, casting a brief glance towards him. His eyes narrowed slightly, searching his features for something, though what that might be, he had no idea. While he certainly didn't look like his father, a fact for which he was grateful, he didn't entirely resemble his mother either, much as he had taken after her.

Whatever it was Coran was looking for, he didn't stay to see if he found it.

He allowed Matt to lead him down the halls of the Castle of Lions without protest. His main objective was to win the trust of the paladins, but winning the trust of the rebels certainly wouldn't hurt either. Especially not one who held a possible connection to at least two paladins.

And if he were to be honest, he had to admit that he appreciated the quiet. It gave him a chance to take in the interior of the Castle of Lions, a sight which he thought he would never be able to see. He'd heard tales of it, seen recordings and images, but that was nothing compared to seeing it in person. It was nice to know that there was at least one piece of Altean culture that hadn't been lost, or otherwise perverted by Zarkon's witch.

"In here." Matt said stiffly.

Lotor followed him into the small room- likely one meant for interrogating prisoners. The two rebels who had accompanied him took up positions on either side of the wall, a curious looking cyber-unit taking up a position inbetwixt them. Matt lingered by the door, hand hovering cautiously over a staff.

There was a single table in the room, one with three chairs set before it. One side only had a single chair, which he assumed was meant for him, whilst the other had two- likely for whoever came to interrogate him. For a brief moment, Lotor wondered what would happen if he sat in one of those, but quickly dismissed it, sitting in the chair that was meant for him.

As it turned out, he didn't have to wait long.

He'd expected perhaps Princess Allura and the black paladin, but once again, his expectations were severely off the mark. If his reception in the hangar had been lacking in paladin presence, then his questioning seemed the exact opposite of that. Every paladin was present and accounted for- though curiously, he noted that the princess was wearing pink and white paladin armor, whilst the red paladin was clad in that of a Blade.

He would admit, his gaze did linger on him a bit longer than the others. He had read much about the red paladin, but it was an entirely different thing to actually see him in person. He had been captured early on in Voltron's reappearance, and had become a subject of Haggar's experiments until he had been freed by the Blade of Marmora. It was his Galra heritage that had attracted the witch's attention, and it was that same heritage that she had planned to use to her advantage.

She had ultimately failed, but she had come extremely close to turning her plans into reality. That much was visible just from the red paladin's appearance. The footage that they had recovered of him before his capture showed him with an appearance not dissimilar to his fellow humans. His Galra heritage was practically invisible, a rarity, to be sure- even those who leaned more towards their non-Galra parent in appearance usually had yellow sclera.

Haggar had changed that. She had wanted a loyal servant, and in order to accomplish that, she had set to bringing out his Galra blood- and then some. Now it was nearly impossible to tell that the red paladin might be anything other than Galra.

Had the witch had her way, he would have reconsidered coming. But the truth was that he needed Princess Allura's help if he was to gain access to the quintessence field. He had thought that by using the same material used to create Voltron to create his Sincline ships, he would finally have what was needed to pierce the barrier between realities.

Clearly, he'd been mistaken.

No matter. As King Alfor's daughter, surely Princess Allura could figure out what went wrong in the process of designing the Sincline ships. He had heard what she had done for that Balmera, so surely King Alfor must have passed on his knowledge to her before he had so senselessly been taken from this world by his own father.

"So," Princess Allura began, snapping his focus back towards her, "-you claim to desire a discussion."

There was open disdain in her voice, which he supposed was not entirely unexpected. She had lived through the fall of Altea, so he could only imagine that she was less than thrilled by the prospect of sitting down and talking with the son of man who had slaughtered her people. The fact that he himself was also part-Altean would likely mean little to her now, so for the moment, he would hold onto that card.

He would play it later, when the time was right.

"That is all I wish." Lotor said plainly. "Though I must admit, I did not expect all of you to come."

"Voltron is one unit." The black paladin- _Takashi Shirogane_ , according to the prison records- began, uncrossing his arms. "Anything that you say to one of us, you say to all of us."

"But of course." Lotor agreed. "Anything I have to say, I am more than happy to say to all six of you."

Their reaction was both swift and as expected. He watched as the princess narrowed her eyes, and as the red paladin glared at him, while the yellow simply looked nervous- the blue paladin didn't even attempt to hide his surprise, while the green and black paladins were more guarded. None of the rebels that were in the room reacted, which meant that they were all in on the farce that Voltron had been producing.

Interesting.

Takashi said nothing, simply pulling out a chair and sitting across from him. Princess Allura did much the same, watching him like a hawk, as if she expected him to strike at any moment. The others remained where they were, though he didn't miss the way the yellow, green, and blue paladins all seemed to move in a bit closer to the red. It was almost as if they were trying to protect him.

"I think we can take things from here, Matt." Takashi said.

"Are you sure, Shiro?" Matt asked. "Because we don't mind sticking around if you need some extra security."

"I'm sure." Takashi- _Shiro_ , rather, if what Matt had called him was accurate- smiled. "But thanks. Send Kolivan our way when his ship lands."

"Will do." Matt said. He signaled to the other two rebels, and they, along with their cyber-unit, made a swift exit. He moved to do the same, pausing for a second in front of the door, his gaze drifting towards the red paladin. He opened his mouth to say something, only to decide against it, swiftly taking his leave.

Lotor merely arched a brow, curious as to what that was about. He was afraid that information in regards to the red paladin once he had rejoined Voltron was rather hard to come by. Had Acxa not encountered him in the weblum, he might not even have known that anything was amiss.

Clearly, that was the way the paladins wanted it.

"Tell me, princess," Lotor began, "-exactly how many know the truth behind Voltron?"

"Enough." Allura said firmly. "What I want to know is how _you_ know."

"Allura-" The red paladin began.

" _Kethe_ , was it?" Lotor asked, turning his attention towards him. He stiffened, the fur on his tail almost seeming to bristle. "Or was it _Keith_? I've heard conflicting accounts."

"It's both." The paladin said firmly. "Call me whichever you want."

"Keith, then." Lotor said, opting to use his original name. He must have given himself the other one during his time with the Blade. "I'm sure you haven't forgotten that it was one of my generals who you encountered in the weblum."

"Oh right, Keith's weblum buddy." The yellow paladin recalled. He vaguely recalled that Acxa had mentioned his name was _Hunk_. "I was wondering what happened to her."

Lotor merely inclined a brow. Weblum... buddy? A turn of phrase surely, but an odd one. He wasn't under the impression that the two had been on friendly terms with one another.

"Like I said, she wasn't my buddy." Keith snapped, but quickly lost his fire. "Anyways, it doesn't matter if he knows about me. That's not what this meeting is about."

It was an obvious lie. He suspected that part of their desire to speak with him as a unit was to glean just how much he knew about their lies.

"Keith's right." Shiro said. "We're here to discuss the terms of Lotor's surrender."

"Why bother?" The blue paladin rolled his eyes. "I mean, this guy used to lead the Galra Empire. Shouldn't we just lock him up and throw away the key?"

"As tempting as that might be," Allura began, a tight frown set on her lips, "-we should at least hear him out. We owe him that much."

He didn't miss the way everyone's gaze drifted towards Keith as she said that. Strange. He didn't recall doing anything for the paladin, and yet they were treating it as if he had. He was tempted to inquire, but he wanted to refrain from pushing his luck this early on.

While he did hold a piece of information that might be useful to him, he would hold onto it for the time being. For all he knew, the failed clone Haggar had made was already dead. It wasn't likely to survive long in a Galra prison, being a clone of mixed blood. There was no point in sending them off on what was likely a pointless endeavor.

"I can assure you, my desire was only ever to bring peace to the Empire." Lotor said. "I apologize for our past conflicts, but they were necessary in order to accomplish my goals."

"And what _are_ your goals?" Shiro asked.

"Surely you must have noticed how reliant the Galra Empire is on quintessence. It fuels everything, from our ships to our weapons, to things far more mundane." Lotor began.

"He does have a point there." The green paladin conceded, and for the first time, he noticed how very _young_ she sounded. He frowned slightly at that, wondering again at the ages of the paladins. He was aware that humans had short lifespans, but surely most of them must have still been children, even in the eyes of their own people.

Even Princess Allura was young, younger than he had anticipated. It would not derail his plans, but it did give him pause.

"The Galra Empire's sole purpose in conquering worlds has been to obtain more quintessence. That was the whole reason that the komar was invented." Lotor explained. "If you meet that need peacefully, there will be no more need for that."

Allura glared at him from across the table, looking thoroughly unconvinced. "Are you trying to say that as soon as they get their hands on unlimited fuel, the Galra Empire will simply throw down their weapons? I find that hard to believe."

"I will admit, it's not quite that simple." Lotor admitted. "At the very least, so long as my father still reigns, it will be impossible."

"How do we know you're not just here to save your own skin?" The blue paladin asked.

"I will admit, my options are severely limited now that my own generals have betrayed me." Lotor stated plainly, concealing his own half-lie with ease. Ezor and Zethrid might have betrayed him, true enough, but Acxa was acting under his orders. "But my offer of an alliance is true."

"You've been exiled." The green paladin pointed out. "What could you possibly have to offer us?"

"Information." Lotor told them. "I can give you vital intelligence on the Galra Empire."

"That's what the Blade of Marmora is for." Keith said, narrowing his eyes. "We don't need you."

"Ah yes, the Blade of Marmora." Lotor said, glancing his way, watching the way his fur bristled as he did so. "Your trusted Galra allies. But even their information is limited. Surely you must be able to see that."

Keith growled, taking a step forward, only to be held back by Shiro. The black paladin merely shook his head, causing him to slink back, where Hunk rested a hand on his shoulder, mumbling something underneath his breath that Lotor couldn't quite make out.

"Maybe we should finish this discussion some other time." Shiro said. "We all just came off a tough battle. We should face this with clearer heads."

"Of course." Lotor said. "I understand."

Allura frowned, looking at him as if he didn't get any say in the matter. He supposed that as matters stood, he did not- not yet, at any rate. He was certain that with time, he could win the trust of the paladins, including the princess. The black paladin aside, they were young, naive- and in one case, almost completely without memories.

Allura stood up, staring him down. "I don't want him on my ship."

"We might not have a choice." Shiro told her, though he didn't look happy about it either. "Olkarion's not equipped for handling prisoners, and the Castle of Lions _is_ the most secure location we have."

"Couldn't we just hand him over to the Blade?" The yellow paladin asked.

"And give him access to one of our bases?" Keith frowned. "I don't think so."

Lotor merely inclined a brow at his choice of phrase. _Our_ bases. Clearly, though he had taken the mantle of red paladin back, Keith had not clearly divorced himself from his rescuers. The fact that he stood before him in full Marmoran armor was proof enough of that. He wondered if it was the princess who had flown the red lion in today's battle, and not the lion's actual paladin.

Curious.

That said, he wasn't quite certain he cared for the way they were discussing the manner of his imprisonment as if he weren't even in the room. He could only assume they weren't used to keep prisoners, rather than it being due to any malevolence on their part.

"He has a point." Shiro said. "We'll keep him here, at least until we can find someplace better."

"Fine." Allura said, begrudgingly accepting the decision.

"I can assure you, I have no intention of escape." Lotor promised. "Whatever else you might think of me, I am a man of my word."

"We'll see about that." Allura said shortly, before turning on her heel to leave. "I trust you can take care of the rest, Shiro."

"I think I can handle this." Shiro promised, giving her a reassuring smile. "Lance? Think you can help me escort our guest?"

Keith blinked, straightening up. "I could-"

Shiro shook his head. "That's not necessary. Why don't you find Akira and give him a hand?"

"Yeah, Keith, I've got this handled." The blue paladin- whose name was apparently _Lance_ \- piped up. "You're not the only one around here who can be cool and imposing."

Lotor almost wanted to laugh, but wisely refrained from doing so. He'd barely known the blue paladin for longer than a few doboshes, but _imposing_ was not the word he would have selected to describe him. He was rather gangly, possessing limbs that would be all too easy to snap in half. Clearly he had a rather inflated self-image.

(He couldn't even begin to understand what _cool_ meant in this context. It clearly wasn't the definition he was most familiar with.)

Keith frowned, his tail flicking behind him. "I'm fine, Shiro."

"I'm sure you are." Shiro told him, resting a hand on his shoulder. "But I'm still picking Lance this time. It's nothing personal."

Huffing slightly, Keith narrowed his eyes- and then of all things, shot _him_ a glare. Lotor frowned, wondering just what it was that he had done to earn such ire from him.

"Fine." Keith said, tearing his eyes away from him. "But if he starts giving you any trouble-"

"You'll be the first person I tell." Shiro assured him.

Apparently satisfied with that, Keith gave the black paladin a curt nod of his head. He retreated, the green and yellow paladins accompanying him. He heard an offer to assist pass through Hunk's lips before they were too far to hear, and could just make out the edge of a smile on Keith's face before they left the room, and therefore his line of sight.

Hm. He'd been under the impression that he would be more... _isolated_ from his fellow paladins than this, assuming it was something he could exploit. Clearly he'd been mistaken.

No matter. There were countless avenues with which he could win the paladins' trust.

* * *

Akira lifted his head just in time to see Keith storm into the hangar, his pace faster than Pidge and Hunk's, who trailed behind him. He didn't need to look at the puffed up fur of his tail to know that he was in a bad mood- that much was written plain as day on his face.

"Everything okay?" Akira asked before he could stop himself.

"No." Keith said shortly- and just when he thought he wouldn't expand any, "-I just hate owing my life to _Lotor_."

Oh. Akira frowned. He kind of understood, in a weird way. He owed his life- his entire existence, actually- to Haggar, and he was just as unhappy about it.

He just... wasn't sure if he should say that.

"At least you're _alive_." Pidge said. "You've got to promise that you won't do anything that stupid again."

Keith turned on his heel, growling at her. He'd clearly gone from traumatized to angry- not at anyone in specific, just in general. "I was just doing what I had to."

"Pidge has a point." Hunk said. "You gave us all a huge scare, Keith."

Keith opened his mouth to retort, but quickly shut it, his shoulders slumping. The fire that had burned so strongly in him earlier gave way, turning back into a smolder. He stared down at his feet, like he couldn't find the words to respond.

Shifting on his feet, Akira glanced between the three. He was no less happy about Keith's suicide attempt, but he wasn't sure if it was something he should talk too much about. He'd probably already massively overstepped his boundaries earlier- and he winced, suddenly recalling the fact that he'd gone so far as to _punch_ him.

At least he'd thrown a decent punch, even if there had been no real strength behind it. His hand was still kind of sore.

He'd just gotten caught up in the heat of the moment, that was all. He'd just been... _angry_ , he guessed. His first time getting angry, actually- the white hot emotion serving to overpower everything else, common sense included. He didn't want to have finally found someplace to call his own only to have the person he was supposed to replace just up and die. The more he thought about it, the less it sat well with him- what if they had tried to use him as Keith's replacement for real?

Except that made it sound kind of like he was only worried about himself, and that- that wasn't right either. Sure, he didn't want to be forced back into the role of Keith's replacement just when he had begun his journey to discover who he was, but it was more than that. It didn't even have anything to do with the horrifying thought that he might be stuck with Keith's memories forever if he died. It was just...

He didn't want him to.

Huh. When it came down to it, his reasons were surprisingly simple. It shouldn't surprise him so much, but everything else in his life was so complicated. It almost felt like his feelings of not wanting the person he was cloned from to die should be just as complicated as his feelings for the actual person himself.

And those were... pretty complicated.

Heaving a sigh, Hunk placed his hands on his hips. "You know what? I know we came down here to help Coran, but I think this calls for some paladin bonding time."

"Hunk," Pidge cautiously began, "-are you suggesting we _don't_ work on Lotor's cool ship?"

"That's exactly what I'm suggesting, yeah." Hunk said firmly. "Shiro was right when he said that we all had a long day. And what's a better way to relax and bond than spending a little time in the kitchen together?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Akira noted the way Keith's tail perked up. He had already started to wean himself away from the conversation- paladin bonding time obviously didn't include him- but that was pretty hard to miss.

"I like baking." Keith said. "It's peaceful."

"Well _I'd_ like to check out Lotor's ship." Pidge huffed, looking cross. "It's made out of the same stuff as Voltron! Who knows what secrets we might unlock if he examined it?"

Blinking, Akira turned towards the ship in question. This was the first he'd heard about that. He and Coran had mostly been looking for anything suspicious, so he hadn't exactly paid that much attention to the ship itself. All he knew about it was that it had a lot of firepower. It had to, if it had managed to break through that shield.

"I don't know, Pidge." Keith frowned, eying the ship warily. "Not to knock the ship that saved my life, but it kind of gives me the creeps."

Pidge frowned, her brows knitting together. "It's an inanimate object. How can it give you the creeps?"

"Uh, I'll have you know that there are plenty of inanimate objects out there that can give people the creeps." Hunk interjected. "Ventriloquist dummies, for example."

"What's a-?" Keith began, before he shook his head. "No, you know what? Nevermind."

"Good call, trust me." Hunk assured him.

Akira was inclined to agree. There was a lot of stuff from Earth that he kind of wanted to see in person, but a ventriloquist dummy wasn't one of them.

"Look, the point is that something about the ship just feels off." Keith said. "I can't explain it exactly, but being this close to it... it just feels kind of _dead_."

Pidge opened her mouth to say something, before quickly snapping it shut. Her brows knit together as if in consideration, before she ducked past the three of them, placing a hand on the ship's hull.

"Huh," Pidge's frown deepened, "-I think I might actually understand what you mean."

"Yeah." Hunk agreed. "It doesn't feel like Voltron."

Akira blinked, looking at the ship anew. He sort of knew what Voltron felt like, seeing as he had Keith's memories, but as he'd since learned, there was a massive gap between knowing and experiencing. It wasn't like he could sense Voltron- or any of the lions. The red lion had allowed him to fly her that one time, but she had been indulging her true paladin, not him. He'd never been able to _feel_ her.

He doubted he ever would. But he was fine with that.

Right?

"Whatever Alfor did when he built Voltron, I don't think Lotor was able to replicate it." Keith said. "It's definitely a powerful ship, but it's just... _empty_."

"Well, _that's_ creepy." Hunk said, taking a step back. "I for one suggest we all get as far away from the creepy zombie ship as quickly as possible."

Akira frowned, ducking his head a bit so that his bangs hid his expression. He wasn't sure why, but suddenly he felt a bit sorry for the ship. He felt silly for it- it wasn't like it was alive, not like the lions were. It couldn't get offended, or feel hurt. It just _was_.

"Are you kidding?" Pidge asked. "That only makes it more interesting. Just think about what we could learn if we studied it. Maybe we could finally figure out just how the lions work."

"And you can do that later." Hunk told her, putting his hands on her shoulders and steering her away from the ship. "But right now, we're baking."

"But I _hate_ baking." Pidge complained.

"Baking's a science, Pidge." Hunk told her. "Come on, it'll be fun. I mean, as long as you're not as bad in the kitchen as Shiro is."

There was a slight pause there, before Hunk added, "-are you?"

"No one is as bad in the kitchen as Shiro." Pidge said, rolling her eyes.

Behind his veil of hair, Akira grimaced. He could still recall the time Shiro had tried to make dinner when Adam was sick- except no, he couldn't, because that wasn't his memory. It belonged to Keith, who he couldn't be, since the real thing was standing right next to him, watching Pidge and Hunk's argument with interest.

"You coming, Keith?" Hunk asked. "I could always use my favorite sous-chef."

"Sure. Sounds fun." Keith cracked a smile, though he couldn't help but notice the way it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Great." Hunk beamed, already sort of shoving Pidge forward as he made to leave. "This'll be fun. We can try out that cocoa substitute I picked up the other day, and-"

He paused, looking back over his shoulder with a slight frown. "Aren't you coming?"

Blinking, Akira lifted his head, staring at Hunk. Glancing behind him to see if anyone else was there, he looked back at the yellow paladin, confused. "Me?"

"Yeah, you." Pidge said, answering for Hunk.

"I thought you said this was paladin bonding time?" Akira asked.

"Yeah, and?" Pidge asked, staring at him expectantly.

"I'm not a paladin?" Akira said helplessly, not knowing what else to say.

"Yeah, but you're family." Hunk said, extending a hand back towards him. "Come on. We can make something light and easy to digest."

Shifting awkwardly on his feet, Akira stared down at the proffered hand, before looking back up at Hunk and Pidge. He thought he understood the fact that the paladins actually wanted him around, but he was having a hard time actually grasping it. It always just made him feel kind of like an intruder when they invited him to hang out.

He felt a light hand on his shoulder. Looking towards it, he met Keith's eyes. He smiled at him, nodding his head encouragingly.

Right. It was easy to forget, but he knew how he felt. There had been a point when he'd felt like an imposter too.

"Okay," Akira said slowly, accepting Hunk's hand, "-sounds fun."

Hunk lit up, and Akira felt himself smile as well. With a quick word to Coran, he let the trio of paladins escort him out of the hangar. Just before the doors shut behind him, he caught himself looking back, his gaze lingering on Lotor's ship- his empty ship, a pale imitation of Voltron that lacked its spark.

Seized by a sudden fear, he quickly looked away. What if the ship wasn't the only thing empty inside? He was just a pale imitation too, wasn't he?

"Akira?" Keith's voice broke through his reverie. "Something wrong?"

Swallowing, Akira shook his head. "Just thinking."

Narrowing his eyes, Keith didn't look convinced- but a quick glance towards Hunk and Pidge apparently told him now wasn't quite the time to push. "Okay. Just making sure."

Nodding his head, Akira hurried to catch up. He still lagged behind the other three, trying to convince himself that his doubts were just that- doubts. He was fine. He existed. Wasn't that all that mattered?

He hoped.

* * *

With Lotor dealt with for the time being, Shiro made almost a beeline to the main hangar to check on Keith. They hadn't really had a chance to talk about his near suicide run, and though he sensed the group hug from earlier had definitely helped ground him, it wasn't something he felt like he could just leave alone. He didn't think that Keith was actually suicidal, but the fact that he had been so ready to throw away his life for them just didn't sit well with him.

Of course it didn't. He had already lost Keith once. He couldn't lose him again.

He should have known he wasn't the only one thinking that. He just didn't expect Regris to be back so soon. He'd been on his way to the kitchen, where Hunk had dragged Keith, alongside Pidge and Akira, when he ran into the Blade in question. He hadn't seen his ship in the main hangar when he'd been there, but he quickly recalled that Regris typically docked his ship in the red lion's hangar instead. It was pretty understandable that they'd missed each other.

"Regris," Shiro slowly began, hoping he didn't betray too much, "-you're back."

"I heard about Kethe." Regris said in lieu of a greeting. "Coran told me he was here when I landed. I assume you're here for the same reason."

It was impossible to tell if the Blade was angry or not, and if he was, just _who_ he was angry at. He gave almost nothing away. His mask was off and his hood was down, but they might have well both been up for all that he could read his expression. Even the tail prosthetic that Pidge and Hunk had built for him with Matt's help was perfectly still.

"Guess we both had the same idea." Shiro said.

There was no denying the awkward air between the two of them. He wasn't exactly proud of it, but he'd kind of been avoiding Regris. It wasn't like they _never_ spoke, but most of their conversations were purely perfunctory, mostly about missions and intelligence reports. They never actually talked about anything more personal, though he knew Regris was on relatively friendly terms with most of the other paladins.

They never talked about Keith.

He just couldn't bring himself to do it. It was strange- it hadn't been so hard at first. Back when the only thing he had known about Regris was that he'd been Keith's mentor in the Blade, talking to him had actually been easy. Now every time he saw him, he was just reminded of the fact that he'd been replaced.

It was a stupid, petty thought. He knew that. It wasn't even that he _hated_ Regris. He just couldn't help but conflate him with everything he'd lost.

(Well, not _everything_. He couldn't blame losing his arm or his relationship with Adam on Regris. Thankfully he wasn't _that_ far gone.)

"So we did." Regris said. "Is Lotor secure?"

"For now." Shiro said. "How did things go on the planet you were assigned?"

"Well." Regris reported. "We had no issues with pacifying the Empire."

Shiro nodded, taking comfort in the familiar talk. "Good to hear."

Silence hung in the air for a few seconds more, before Regris frowned, the first hint of emotion on his otherwise stoic face. "We don't seem to speak much."

"No, I guess we don't." Shiro inwardly winced- he'd been hoping that Regris hadn't noticed. He guessed he wasn't trained in espionage for nothing.

He wondered if Keith did, before concluding that he must have some idea. He rarely talked about Regris when he was around, unless it was just to update him on the progress of his prosthetic, or whatever mission it was Regris was on- again, purely perfunctory. The thought sat poorly with him, wondering if he'd been putting Keith out all this time.

The ugly, bitter part of him relished in it, though. He'd replaced him. He _deserved_ to feel awkward about it.

It was just as stupid a thought as Regris having replaced him, he knew. None of this was Keith's fault. If anything, he was glad that he had been able to find someone in the Blade to fill his shoes. He couldn't imagine what it had been like for him in those early days with the Blade- with no memories, not even a sense of his own identity. He should be _grateful_ to Regris, not resent him.

And he was- don't get him wrong. He _absolutely_ was grateful.

He just... yeah, he resented him a little.

 _A lot_ , sometimes.

"You know," Shiro began, "-I did already speak with him earlier. You should talk to him though. I think he'd be glad to hear from you."

Regris blinked, slightly tilting his head. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." Shiro lied. "I can always catch him later."

Regris' frown grew tighter, but thankfully he opted not to say anything. He didn't know if he could take having that kind of conversation with him, not when he'd only just started to come to grips with his own misplaced feelings of grief. He never thought he'd experience mourning someone who was actually still alive.

Anyways, Regris would probably be better suited to the task. There were things about Keith that he just didn't understand anymore, and the mentality he'd been taught in the Blade was one of them. He'd always been hoping that Keith hadn't embraced their creed of _knowledge or death_ , but maybe he had.

He'd also been there when Ulaz died. He knew what an emotional, grieving Keith was like.

He didn't know if he did. Not anymore. The best thing he could do for Keith was to step down, let someone better qualified handle this.

He just wasn't used to that someone not being _him_.


	25. brothers side

Hurrah, here's the next chapter! I don't have a ton to say this time around, so I'll let you all just get right to it and enjoy! As always, thanks for reading, and remember to maybe leave a comment or two every once in awhile! Until next time!

* * *

 **abyss of being**

 **brothers side**

* * *

In the end, it was decided that Lotor would remain imprisoned on the Castle.

As much as Allura detested the idea of allowing him to remain, she detested the idea of putting their allies at risk even more. Though Lotor had claimed that his generals had betrayed him, they had no proof of that statement. Just their absence at his side wasn't nearly enough, not when their absence could prove potentially advantageous. If Lotor was lying, then they could easily spring him from prison. The Coalition as a whole would be safer if Lotor remained on the Castle.

While Shiro had some... _reservations_ about keeping prisoners, given his time as one, he nevertheless understood the necessity. Lotor wasn't the only prisoner that they had taken after the fall of Naxzela, though he _was_ their most high profile one. All they could do was attempt to do better than the Empire, even if some of the captured Galra quite frankly didn't deserve it. Those who had held high rank on colonized planets would be judged by the people of those planets. As for the rank and file, they would have to figure out how to deal with them at some point, though this was possibly a task better left to the Blade of Marmora.

But all of that was still a ways away, and they had other issues to worry about right this second.

Like Lotor.

And Lotor's ship.

"As far as we can tell, while both the propulsion and weapons systems are more advanced than Voltron, the- Shiro, are you even listening?"

Jolting to attention, Shiro coughed into his hand. "Sorry, Pidge. Just distracted."

Pidge pursed her lips, staring at him skeptically. He offered her a weak smile in response. Keith had left on a mission with Regris just that morning, and it was all he could think about it. Ostensibly, he was just worried about him after his recent near-death encounter, but he knew it wasn't just that. If the mission was with any Blade but Regris, he wouldn't be this distracted.

He'd secretly been hoping that by ignoring the problem, it might eventually go away. If anything, it was getting _worse_. Which, Shiro begrudgingly admitted, probably meant he actually needed that talk with Regris after all.

"You were saying something about the ship's engines?" Shiro asked.

Pidge huffed slightly. " _And_ its weapons systems. Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

"Just worried about Keith." Shiro half-lied.

He felt a little guilty at how quickly Pidge accepted that explanation. "Do you think Lotor's intel could be a trap?"

Shiro frowned. He didn't trust Lotor, but he didn't think he would be stupid enough to show his hand _this_ early. He'd begun to provide them with intelligence, as promised, and the Blade of Marmora was moving to check out those first few leads. Voltron was still needed here, and with their experience with infiltration, the Blade had been the perfect choice to privately investigate Lotor's claims.

If any one of the teams that Kolivan had sent- or all of them, he guessed- found a trap waiting for them, then they would know right away that Lotor was lying. So no, his gut instinct was that Lotor was telling the truth, though whether or not it would _stay_ that way remained to be seen.

But as much as he wanted to give Pidge a sound _no_ , he couldn't. There was always the chance he was wrong.

He'd been wrong before, like the time he'd taken a chance on that day-old yogurt or that time he thought it would be a good idea to go to Kerberos. If there was one thing both food poisoning and being stuck an intergalactic war had taught him, it was to hedge his bets.

"I think it's unlikely." Shiro finally said. "But we should be prepared for anything."

He hadn't wanted Keith to go for that very reason. But if there was one thing about him that hadn't changed, it was the fact that you couldn't tell him anything. At least Regris had promised to keep him safe, and whatever else he thought about the Blade, he could believe that.

"Have you asked him about my father yet?" Pidge asked.

Shiro frowned, for an entirely different reason this time. "You know we can't, not until we're sure we can trust him. If this is a trap..."

"-then the Galra Empire will know just how much we want to get dad back. That could put him in even more danger." Pidge half-recited, her face crinkling in anger. "I know."

Shiro gave her shoulder a soft squeeze, giving her an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Pidge. If he tells us on his own, that's a different matter, but until then, we just have to wait."

The fact that they _hadn't_ attempted to use Sam against them yet was proof of three things- that the Galra Empire didn't know Pidge was his daughter, that they thought Matt was dead, and that Haggar hadn't been able to view Keith's memories for herself. While Keith had been captured long before they found Matt, he had still known about Pidge's relation to the Commander. Based on how eager Haggar had been to use Keith against them, he couldn't imagine that she would pass up on a similar chance to potentially exploit Commander Holt.

"I know." Pidge grumbled, staring daggers at the floor. "But we're so _close_. Lotor was in charge of the Galra Empire for _months_ , and he recognized my brother. He _has_ to know something."

He didn't doubt he did, and was purposefully holding out on them. It was frustrating, but at least they had _some_ reassurance that he was at least alive. Sam was a brilliant scientist, and the Galra Empire was always eager to exploit the minds of the brilliant. They wouldn't want to waste talent like that, so keeping him alive was likely priority.

"I know." Shiro said. "And we'll get him back. I promise."

Pidge nodded, glaring at the floor for a few seconds longer before she sucked in a deep breath. "What was I saying?"

"Something about weapons systems?" Shiro offered.

" _And_ engines." Pidge added, huffing slightly. "Anyways, the important thing is that this ship isn't alive like the lions are. It's powerful, sure, but it's no Voltron."

Shiro frowned, looking towards the ship. They were keeping it in the main hangar, where it stuck out like a sore thumb next to all the Altean pods. It kind of reminded him of the aquariums back home- and of the sharks that were mixed in with the other fish. It belonged in theory, but there was no denying the air of menace it held. Pidge, Hunk, and Coran had been pouring over every detail of the ship since it had come into their possession, though it was Keith who had apparently picked up on how _empty_ the ship felt at first.

At this close of a range, Shiro couldn't help but agree.

"So Lotor failed." Shiro stated. "At least that part of his story's true."

"Allura thinks the difference has something to do with Altean alchemy." Pidge said. "She's just not sure what."

Shiro arched his brows at that. "So there's a chance he could be here for Allura."

"It's possible." Pidge shrugged. "But she doesn't know much about alchemy either."

"She doesn't, but Lotor doesn't know that." Shiro pointed out.

If Lotor really _was_ here for Allura, then they'd have to be careful to avoid leaving the two of them alone at any point. As it stood, they already avoided sending anyone down to his cell by themselves- it was always in groups of two or three. He might not be able to escape from it easily, but caution was always prudent.

He wasn't going to risk having another paladin captured. Not again.

"I just hate the idea that there's another one of these things out there." Pidge said, screwing her face into a frown. "At least Lotor brought the rest of the comet with him."

Shiro fought back a shudder. It was bad enough there was still one comet ship unaccounted for, but at least the comet was back in their hands now. He couldn't imagine what Haggar would do with it if she got her hands on it. Unlike Allura, she _did_ have some skill with Altean alchemy.

"With any luck, Lotor's telling the truth, and his generals are still on the run from the Empire." Shiro said.

"Yeah, but for how long?" Pidge asked.

Shiro just shook his head. He didn't have an answer to that.

"Well, at least-"

He didn't get to hear the end of Pidge's sentence, the sound of a ship's engine cutting her off. That was enough to give away the fact that it wasn't one of the Blade groups returning- their ships were silent. No, this was the sound of an Altean pod, and there was only one person who had taken one out today. Turning his head, he managed a faint smile, watching as one clumsily landed at the far end of the hangar.

"Oh," Pidge smiled, having apparently totally forgotten what she was going to say, "-guess Coran and Akira are back."

"Looks like it." Shiro said. "Come on, let's see how his lesson went."

Making their way over to the Altean pod, they made it just in time to watch as the pod's cockpit dematerialized. Coran was beaming, but that could mean just about anything, Shiro knew.

"Well," Coran chirped, "-that didn't go so bad!"

"I nearly ran into a debris field." Akira remarked, pulling off his helmet. He hadn't cut his hair yet, so it was currently twined up in a sloppy bun that probably would have had Allura's nose crinkle with disapproval if she saw it. It came out of it easily, the clone shaking it out presumably in an attempt to make it more orderly, but just resulted in a bigger mess.

He tried to keep his focus on his face, and not on the way he could still just barely count his ribs through the form-fitting fabric of his flight suit. He'd come a long way, but it was going to take some time before he built up the fat and muscle tone he'd lost.

"Ah, but you only did it once!" Coran eagerly pointed out. "The last time you tried flying, you nearly got us killed on three separate occasions! That's quite the improvement!"

"...thanks." Akira said, with all the dryness he could muster. The added raspiness in his voice somehow managed to make it sound even more sarcastic than it already was.

"Sounds like the two of you had an exciting time." Shiro said.

Akira startled, looking their way with surprise. He obviously hadn't expected a welcome committee. "I'm not sure if _exciting_ is the word I would choose."

Shiro just smiled. "How was the lesson?"

"Fine, I guess." Akira frowned, his brows knitting together. It wasn't hard to guess that he was mentally comparing it to what was in his head, and was coming up short. "What are you doing here?"

"Pidge was just giving me a briefing on Lotor's ship." Shiro said, watching as Akira's face fell as he realized that they hadn't been there for him.

"Oh. Right. The ship." Akira said, ducking his head in an attempt to hide his expression.

Shiro inwardly winced, even though he knew lying to Akira would be even worse. If he was anything like Keith in that regard, then he'd probably prefer honesty over a pretty lie. Still, watching him look dejected like this stung.

"You have anything planned for the rest of the day?" Shiro asked. "Allura has us scheduled to pass out supplies to the new refugees coming in. We could use the help."

Peeking out from behind his bangs, Akira blinked, then shook his head. "I was just going to help Coran."

"Oh, I think I can spare you for a day or so." Coran said. "Go on, have fun."

"I'm not sure passing out supplies is exactly _fun_." Pidge remarked.

Chewing on his lip, Akira nodded his head. "Just let me change first."

"Don't forget the sunblock!" Coran called after him. "We can't having you turn as pink as Allura's armor again!"

Although he was facing away from them, judging from the way Akira flinched, Shiro was positive that he'd just turned bright red. Apparently one of the side effects of having been raised in an environment with no sun was an excessive sensitivity to it, as they had found out when Akira had returned to the Castle with an awful sunburn after only spending less than an hour outside. Thankfully, the healing pods turned out to be able to heal sunburns, but he'd had Coran mix up some sunblock for him anyways. While he could definitely use some more sun, they'd just have to take it slow.

Hastily nodding his head, Akira wordlessly ducked out of the room.

"We'll meet you in the cargo hold!" Pidge called after him, the clone merely lifting a hand to indicate that he'd heard her.

"I take it you're all done with Lotor's ship, then." Coran remarked, looking across the room at it. He wondered what the Altean was thinking, but whatever it was, he kept it to himself. Maybe it brought back memories.

"We're done for now." Shiro said. "You're sure its secure?"

"Oh, don't you worry. Nobody's going to be getting into that ship, I promise." Coran assured him. "You two run along now. You've got aid to provide."

"Sorry for stealing your assistant." Shiro said.

"Ah, think nothing of it." Coran waved a hand. "He needs all the life experience he can get, I reckon."

Shiro couldn't exactly argue with that. Putting his borrowed memories aside, the time Akira had spent free of Galra chains was just a little over a month. He'd made remarkable progress in that time, but he still had a lot of work ahead of him if he was ever going to make up for lost time.

He wanted to do what he could to help with that. But just like with Keith, sometimes he didn't know if he was the right person for it. Out of all the paladins, he had spent the most time with Keith- and that meant Akira had more memories of him than anyone else. He saw it in the way he would subconsciously react to him and then flinch, as if he'd done something wrong. He wanted to assure him that he hadn't, but sometimes he couldn't help but wonder if a little distance wasn't what was best for the both of them.

Akira had been made as a replacement for Keith. That knowledge had weighed heavily on him for so long, and now that he had finally started to get past that... he wasn't about to risk allowing himself to fall into the same habits he had with Keith. It would be good for literally no one- not him, not Akira, and definitely not Keith.

Narrowing his eyes, Shiro looked up at Lotor's ship. Speaking of things that weren't good for anyone... maybe he _did_ need to have that talk with Regris after all. Nothing good would come from letting things continue on like this.

Memories or no memories, he was Keith's brother. It was about time he started acting like it.

* * *

Olkarion, Akira had decided, was _great_.

He'd stepped foot on a small handful of other planets since then. The Balmera was nice, but it reminded him too much of memories that weren't his. Naxzela was just metallic and cold, and reminded him too much of what nearly could have been. Puig was nice too, but... well, it was mostly desert, and the desert felt too much like home to him for him to be entirely comfortable with it.

But Olkarion? Olkarion had vast forests and even vaster seas. All terrains that Keith was largely unfamiliar with, and even better, he had no memories of the planet from him. It was uniquely _his_.

That said, it was kind of hard to appreciate Olkarion when he was sweating this much. He'd only worked for half the time the paladins had, and his tunic was already damp. He still hadn't quite succeeded in his quest to find a replacement- nothing in the clothing stores really leapt out at him. He kept meaning to take the money Coran had given him and go down to the market, but he could never work up the nerve to go alone, and asking someone to go with him was out of the question.

Taking a sip of the iced tea like concoction that he'd been given by one of the Olkari, Akira watched as the paladins continued to pass out supply kits. He was sitting in the shade the Castle provided, next to a cooling fan. Hunk had basically escorted him there by force when he realized how badly he was sweating, and when he'd been too stubborn to go back inside the Castle. He didn't want to look weak, even though he knew objectively that he was.

He'd kind of thought they'd have less refugees now that they had taken back so much of the Galra Empire's territory. But all of those bases had contained dozens, if not hundreds of prisoners, all of whom needed to be sorted out and dealt with. Olkarion had once again become a central hub for that effort, a peaceful place far away from the monolithic bases where they had been held prisoners. No one who had been held in them wanted to stay in them, a desire which he could fully understand.

Some would go back to their home planets. Others would join the fight. Even more would settle somewhere in the new territory, unable to return home, and either not able or too scared to take up arms against the Galra. There was no judgement- not everyone was born to fight.

As he watched the refugees, he thought about An. Her mother still hadn't been found, and even she was starting to look a little long in the face these days.

He could sympathize- and couldn't. The closest thing he had to a mother was Haggar, and he didn't want her. He had Keith's memories of losing his father, but he didn't even _begin_ to think that just the memories alone could allow him to understand how he had felt.

Memories and experiences were not the same. He understood that fully now.

"Long day?"

Jerking his head up, Akira's mouth formed an O of surprise. He hadn't even noticed Keith approach.

"When did you get back?" Akira asked, at a loss for any other words.

"Just now." Keith told him. "Coran told me I'd find you all here."

He was still in his Blade armor, his hood up so that it shadowed his face. It was easy to tell who among the newcomers were familiar with the Blade of Marmora or not based on the way they looked at him. The suspicious ones just saw the Galra, but the ones who knew saw the armor first, and looked away.

Akira hummed, staring down at his iced tea. They still hadn't exactly sorted out what their relationship was. There hadn't been time. It always seemed like there was never any time, which was in great contrast to when he had been a prisoner- when it always seemed like there was too _much_ time.

Lance had jokingly referred to them as _twins_ , but it felt... presumptuous to think of Keith as a brother. He was still having trouble grasping the idea that he was allowed to be his own person, much less a person _at all_ , and not just a tool to be used and exploited.

"Ah, good Blade," the same Olkarion that had given him his drink greeted Keith, "-would you like one as well?"

Keith blinked almost owlishly at the offer, before slowly inclining his head. "Uh, sure."

"Help yourself." The Olkarion held up his tray of drinks.

Keith picked one out, giving it a surreptitious sniff, before cracking an awkward smile, as if he was trying to avoid showing too many teeth. "Thanks."

"Think nothing of it." The Olkarion said before moving on- though not before casting a strange look between the two of them. He wasn't sure why, when they didn't look that much alike anymore, before Akira recalled he'd behaved in exactly the same way as Keith upon being offered a drink.

He didn't know what to think about that, so he just... didn't. It was easier not to.

"What is this?" Keith asked, taking a small sip. "It tastes sweet."

"No clue." Akira shook his head. "It tastes kind of like iced tea though. Maybe."

He could tell by the way his lips pulled slightly downwards that Keith had gotten what he meant. He theoretically knew what iced tea was and what it tasted like, but he'd never actually _had_ any. Keith had though, only he didn't remember it.

Taking another sip, Keith squinted at the drink. "I can't tell if it tastes familiar or not."

Akira took another sip of his own, sloshing it around in his mouth a bit. His taste buds would probably remember even if Keith himself didn't, but to his, the drink was a new experience. "I mean, it's not _exactly_ the same, so..."

Keith just hummed again. Looking down at his feet, Akira wondered if he'd said the wrong thing again. He knew his memories were just as much a sore spot for Keith as they were for him, if for entirely different reasons. So why had he just blurted something like that out?

As the silence stretched on, he racked his brain over what to do. Should he just pretend nothing had been said? Should he apologize? He didn't know how to deal with these situations, and ironically enough the memories that were the source of so many of his problems- including this one- were being very unhelpful at telling him what to do. Keith was _terrible_ with conflict resolution.

And so, apparently, was he.

"Guess I'll just have to wait until we get back to Earth to try the real thing."

Blinking, Akira looked up, his lips twisting in a frown. "You're not mad?"

Keith tilted his head, staring down at him in genuine confusion. "Why would I be mad?"

"I thought... I don't know. That you didn't want stuff like that brought up." Akira said.

 _Especially from me_ , but he managed to refrain from actually saying that out loud.

"I don't think food is something to get upset about." Keith said.

"Oh." Akira blinked, staring back down at his feet again. Right, of course. He'd just overreacted. Ducking his head, he felt a heat that was entirely unassociated with the sun tint his cheeks.

Ugh. Dealing with people was harder than he thought.

Not knowing what else to say, Akira just turned back to his drink. He guessed things were just going to be awkward between them for awhile longer yet.

* * *

It was with a great amount of surprise that Shiro noticed Keith standing next to Akira. He hadn't even known he was back- he'd been under the impression that their mission would take all day. Then again, a quick check at his armor's internal clock revealed that several hours had passed since he'd spoken with Akira in the hangar, so they very well could have finished their mission in that amount of time.

He was glad to see him back in one piece. It meant the mission had gone well.

But it also meant Regris was back.

Frowning, Shiro looked away. Now that he was faced with the actual real prospect of talking things out with Regris, he found himself making excuses to put it off. It was true that there were still plenty of refugees that needed to be sorted and needed to receive their supply kits, but they were starting to wind down, and the loss of one extra hand wouldn't impact them substantially. And while it was true that Regris had just come off a mission, it was just an infiltration mission, and judging by Keith's easy state, it had likely gone well.

The only real justification he had for putting it off was that Regris might be reporting to Kolivan, but he knew that was a pretty weak excuse too. There was a strong possibility that they had already reported to Kolivan on the way back, and it wasn't like it wouldn't take long if they hadn't. In the time it took him to find Regris, it would be over and done with.

No, all he was doing was looking for a way to weasel out of this, and he wasn't going to let himself.

If anything, now might be the ideal time to do it. With almost everyone out of the Castle aside from maybe Coran, there would be no one to interrupt and keep him from saying what needed to be said.

(And more importantly, no one to _overhear_.)

"Allura," he said, catching the princess' attention, "-think you can take over for me? There's something I need to take care of."

Allura blinked, surprised by the sudden request. "Of course. Is something wrong?"

"No. Just something personal I need to deal with." Shiro told her.

Allura frowned slightly. "If you say so. But you will let me know if something is wrong, correct?"

"Promise." Shiro told her.

"In that case, I have things more than handled here." Allura said.

"Thanks." Shiro said before ducking away, heading back to the Castle's transport pod. Behind him, he could hear Allura taking over the distribution of supplies and assuring the other paladins that everything was fine, and that he was just leaving to take care of something he'd forgotten to do earlier in the day. He didn't doubt she'd have the situation well in hand.

It was easy to forget that Allura was several years younger than him sometimes, given how composed she could be. The old man in him kind of wished she'd relax more. Heck, the old man in him kind of wished _he'd_ relax more.

But now wasn't the time for relaxing. Now was the time for talk.

* * *

Somehow, Regris wasn't all that surprised to find the black paladin waiting for him. He'd just finished his briefing with Kolivan, his and Kethe's mission having gone well. It left a strange taste in his mouth, acting on information they had ascertained from Lotor, but he couldn't deny that it had been useful.

The Blade had many agents still within Galra ranks, but the Galra Empire was vast, and they were few. Whenever they closed an information gap, a new one seemed to open up.

"I take it the mission went well." Shiro remarked, making what the humans apparently called _small talk_. He doubted he'd come all this way just to talk about the mission, though, not from the look in his eyes.

There was much he didn't understand about these humans, even after living alongside them for a few phoebs. But he didn't need to understand them to know that the black paladin had been... _avoiding him_ , in a sense. He hadn't been sure why at first, not until he'd heard from the green paladin's brother that Shiro and Kethe had once been as close as family.

Then everything fell into place.

"There were no problems." Regris remarked. "The intel from Lotor checked out."

"Glad to hear it." Shiro said. "Though I'm still not sure about trusting him."

"Nor am I." Regris agreed.

Were it not for the intelligence he might be able to provide them with, he would have opted to kill Lotor on the spot, and even then he wasn't sure if he was worth the trouble. He may have saved Kethe's life, but it was through pure circumstance, and not intention, so therefore he owed him nothing. They would be able to gather intelligence on their own, as they had been doing for centuries, gap or not.

The Blade of Marmora's numbers were small, yes, but they had begun to grow ever since they had allied with the paladins. He didn't doubt that there would be defectors amongst those they had captured during their most recent undertaking- those who had seen through the Galra Empire's campaign of propaganda, but didn't know how or were too afraid to rebel.

The Voltron Coalition reclaiming such a massive swath of territory back from the Galra Empire might give them just the courage they needed.

"Do you have time?" Shiro finally managed to ask. "There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about."

"I take it it's not about the mission." Regris observed.

"No." Shiro said. "It's not."

Truthfully, if Shiro hadn't asked to speak about it soon, he would have been the one to confront him. Kethe had begun to notice, and he could sense that it was a source of distress for him. While most of the tension between him and the paladins was gone, Kethe had been in a difficult situation for some time, and there was still some awkwardness from that simmering under the surface. This... _situation_ , should it continue, had the potential to cause that simmering tension to come to light.

He didn't want to risk damaging the progress that Kethe had made here.

"I have time." Regris said simply.

"You've... done a lot for Keith." Shiro began. "I'm not sure if I ever thanked you."

"No thanks are necessary." Regris said. "It is customary for the younger members of the Blade to be looked after by the older."

"Still," Shiro said, "-from the sound of it, you helped him a lot."

 _While I wasn't there for him_ , Regris sensed he meant to continue.

"Walk with me, paladin." Regris said, taking a few steps forward without waiting for Shiro to follow. He didn't need to. He quickly caught up, walking beside him.

"So... how's the new tail working?" Shiro asked, glancing down at it.

"Like a charm." Regris said, drawing amusement from the human turn of phrase. It was one he enjoyed. "It was worth going through all the different prototypes first."

Were Ulaz alive, he would have thought it a marvel. It was roughly the same size and weight as his actual tail, so adjusting to it was rather simple. Its reaction time was a bit slow, but he imagined that was something that could be improved upon with time. As far was he was concerned, it was nice to just be able to walk again without stumbling over his own feet, not to mention being capable of running missions again.

"Good to hear it." Shiro nodded. "Keith was really worried about you."

Regris felt the edges of his lips twitch into a smile. He had grown incredibly fond of the child, more than he'd first thought. When he'd heard that he had nearly sacrificed himself, his heart had dropped to his stomach. He was used to Blades giving their lives for the cause, but Kethe was no mere Blade.

He shouldn't have to die like one.

He shook off the thought, glancing down towards Shiro. Unlike humans, the Galra were not much for small talk, so he decided it best he simply move on to the reason he was likely here.

"You are upset things between the two of you have changed."

Beside him, Shiro winced. "Is it that obvious?"

"I'm not sure Kethe has entirely noticed yet." Regris assured him. "Although he _does_ notice you avoid me. It concerns him."

Shiro's wince deepened. "I was afraid of that."

Coming to a halt, Regris studied the black paladin. While he would never know the full extent to his prior relationship with Kethe, he could see the one that they currently had. He knew they were both holding back, like there was an invisible threshold between them that they were each afraid to cross. If even just one of them took that first step, the problem would be solved, but neither of them were willing to do so.

If he was going to be honest, it was sort of starting to get on his nerves.

"I don't think that's what you're actually afraid of."

"No," Shiro admitted, "-it's not. I'm afraid of being replaced."

"You see me as a threat." Regris said.

Looking up, Shiro met his eyes. "Yes."

Regris held his gaze for a few ticks, before he snorted. "That's not a fear you need to have. I don't know what it is that you did for Kethe in the past, but just because he no longer remembers it, it does not change the fact that whatever it was, it saved him."

Shiro huffed. "All it did was lead him to be captured by an evil witch."

" _That_ is not your fault. It was just misfortune." Regris said firmly. "Kethe does not blame you, so you should not blame yourself."

Shiro dropped his gaze, and for the first time, Regris sensed that there was maybe something _more_ to this. Narrowing his eyes, he tried to puzzle it out, before Shiro provided the answer himself.

" _Kethe_ doesn't. I might never know if _Keith_ did."

* * *

The admission felt hot on his tongue. Admitting how much of a difference he saw between the two was something that had been difficult to tell even Coran, but Regris? He hadn't planned on mentioning it at all to him. It just... _came out_.

"I didn't mean-"

"But you did." Regris finished, his tone frustratingly neutral. Kolivan had trained his Blades irritatingly well.

Realizing that he couldn't lie to him, Shiro let his shoulders slump. This wasn't what he had wanted to talk about, but it was out there now, and he couldn't exactly take it back. The responsible thing to do would be to own up to it.

"It's not like that." Shiro said. "It's just... it's difficult to get used to."

"The change?" Regris inquired.

"Yeah." Shiro agreed, then thought better of it. "Not the- not the physical stuff. That's fine. It's more... well, everything else."

He kept the fact that the physical stuff _had_ involved some adjustment on his part too, but that was normal and to be expected. The physical changes actually felt a lot less significant now than they had in the past, when Keith had first returned. The more used to him looking Galra he became, the easier it was to see the places where he hadn't changed.

He wished dealing with the rest of it was only just a matter of adjustment.

Regris simply hummed, continuing on as if he was completely unaffected by what he'd said. That was the most difficult part of dealing with him, Shiro couldn't help but think. Most of the Blades he had dealt with were pretty stoic, but for the most part, it wasn't a problem. He wasn't exactly having emotional conversations with them, just cut and dry conversations about the war effort. He didn't need to be able to read their faces for that.

But Regris? He couldn't figure out what Regris thought of him.

"You were close." Regris said simply. "Once."

The _once_ stung, but he couldn't deny it. It wasn't as if they were _distant_ , but... sometimes it felt like there was a threshold that he just couldn't cross. He remembered Keith, defiant and wary, hesitant to trust him- and how he'd had to _earn_ that trust. It had taken time and effort, and he just didn't feel as if he'd put in that same time and effort this time around to regain said trust.

Keith didn't remember him. He couldn't just claim that they had been like family once and expect him to start treating him like a brother again. It didn't work that way.

"Once." Shiro agreed, trying not to stare at the floor. "I helped him get into the Galaxy Garrison. Adam and I looked after him- at least, we did until the Kerberos mission."

"Adam?" Regris questioned.

"My fiancee." Shiro winced, unconsciously touching his right wrist, where his electro-stimulator had once been. It was long gone now, along with his flesh and blood arm and his disease. " _Ex_ -fiancee, actually. It's complicated."

"Ah." Regris simply said. He was grateful the Blade didn't press. He was already having one conversation that he hadn't quite planned on having with him, he didn't want to turn it into _two_. He didn't need him to know just how much of a screw-up he could be with relationships.

Not just the _romantic_ ones either, he couldn't help but think.

"He was like a brother to me." Shiro confessed.

"And he thought of you the same?" Regris asked.

"Maybe. Keith could be a pretty private person." Shiro admitted, before again, rethinking his choice of words. "Or, well... he used to be."

His face fell a little as he said that, but he sucked it up. It should be a _good_ thing that Keith was more open now, even if he couldn't quite shake the bitter taste of it only being the result of memory loss. Keith was definitely happier, and that _should_ have been the most important thing.

Except where it mattered most, he _wasn't_ Keith. Keith had died, alone and afraid, and he'd done nothing to stop it.

Some family he was.

Regris' lips twitched slightly downwards, the first hint of emotion the Blade had allowed on his face. Shiro instinctively felt something in him tense at the sight of it. He probably wasn't making himself look very good, was he?

"It's not just your old relationship with him that you want back, is it?" Regris asked. "It's the version of him that you knew."

Shiro stiffened, but forced himself to nod. "Don't get me wrong. I don't hate the way he is now, it's just..."

"It just reminds me of how badly I failed him." Shiro finished. "If I had worked harder, if I had taken more risks, maybe Keith would still have his memories. And I know that now that we have Akira, we have a chance at getting them back, but..."

"You feel like it won't be the same." Regris finished.

"Yeah." Shiro admitted, arching a brow. "You're pretty good at this."

"Kolivan tasks me with looking after young Blades a lot." Regris remarked, a slight hint knot forming where his brow was. "You pick up on a few things."

In spite of himself, Shiro felt a laugh escaping him. He was so used to being one of the only adults around that it was easy for him to forget that Regris was probably a fair bit older than him. Even without quintessence in their system, the Galra had fairly long lifespans.

"Look, what I really wanted to do was say that I'm sorry." Shiro said. "I shouldn't have been avoiding you like I have been. It was petty of me."

"Apology accepted." Regris said it so easily, like he hadn't even needed to think about it for a second. It only sufficed to make Shiro feel guiltier than he already was.

Still, it didn't fail to bring with it a sense of relief. Guilt aside, having his feelings out in the open air did make him feel better, so he guessed Coran was right. Maybe now he could actually focus on building a relationship with Regris, instead of pushing him away and half-resenting him for something that made no sense at all. Maybe at some point, he'd even stop feeling like he'd stolen Keith from him.

"Okay." Shiro said. "Good. I'm glad I got this off my chest."

Regris gaze briefly flickered down towards his chest, before understanding clicked. Clearly not an expression the Galra had then, but they weren't exactly prone to figures of speech. In hindsight, he wondered if that was part of the reason why Keith had always been so _literal_ \- he'd gotten the hang of it eventually, but there had still been moments when expressions had caught him off guard, especially if they were ones he wasn't used to.

In that sense... he really hadn't changed.

"I _do_ have a question, however." Regris began, just for a second looking uncertain enough for Shiro to discern. "Do your people not have a concept of souls?"

Shiro blinked, the unexpected question catching him off guard. "I- yeah, we do, actually. Why?"

Regris brow crinkled, ever so slightly. Suddenly Shiro was wondering if it wasn't that the Blade was unexpressive- but rather, if he'd just never spoken with him for long enough to notice them. They were a lot less pronounced than he was used to, and his alien features made them a bit harder to determine- mostly due to the fact that Regris had no eyebrows, or any visible hair at all for that matter, being a Galra of the scaled variety.

"I was under the impression that you didn't." Regris admitted, his prosthetic tail flicking slightly behind him.

"I didn't actually know the Galra _did_." Shiro confessed.

Regris just snorted. "That does not surprise me. I doubt the belief has persisted underneath Zarkon's rule. Going so far as to make a _clone_ -"

Shiro visibly tensed, the disgust on Regris' voice impossible to mistake. He didn't think-?

Regris cut himself off, shaking his head. "Now it is my turn to say things that are easily mistaken. Do not take that as an attack on Akira. His existence is not his fault. It is not to be held against him."

Shiro just nodded, not knowing quite what to say. Part of him wanted to press Regris more on the subject, but part of him wasn't sure he'd like what he heard. The way he said it... did he not think Akira had a soul? Or was that just a belief common to the Galra?

It made the guards' treatment of Akira make so much more sense, and it churned his gut to think that there might be others out there who possibly felt the same way. Maybe it was for the best that they had already been keeping Akira as far away from Lotor as possible. He didn't want to expose him to any further trauma. He'd been through enough already.

They still weren't sure just how much Lotor knew about Keith and Akira's situation. He knew more than they would like already, but he'd been fairly mum on any further details. It wasn't like he thought Lotor knew anything that they _didn't_ already know- Akira's discovery had been a nasty curveball, but he'd be pretty surprised if there were more out there.

"So... why the sudden question about souls?" Shiro asked, making a mental note to revisit his other questions at a later date.

He swore Regris looked almost grateful for the change of subject. "I do not know how humans view them, but to the Galra, the soul is the core of one's being. Kethe's memories may be gone, but his soul remains unchanged."

Shiro blinked, then blinked again, his brain slow to process what it was that Regris had just said. Honestly, he'd never considered himself a very spiritual person, so he'd never thought about souls before, in any context. But there was something... something almost comforting about what Regris said.

The soul was the same. The core was the same. What made Keith fundamentally Keith remained unchanged.

He didn't know if he believed it, but it was a nice sentiment.

"And besides," he swore Regris quirked a grin, "-Kethe frets about his relationship with you as well. He's simply too stubborn to admit it."

Shiro opened his mouth to say something, but snapped it shut instead. He hadn't noticed at all. He'd just assumed- he'd thought Keith was content with the way things were between them now, that he didn't seek anything more. They were on good terms, spoke often, but when he looked back on it... there was no real closeness between them, not in the same way there was between him and the rest of the paladins. As he'd been drawing closer to the rest, they had remained at the exact same place they had been after his birthday celebration. Consciously or not, he'd been keeping his distance.

And it was exactly because he'd been keeping his distance that he'd failed to notice that maybe Keith wanted something a little more. That maybe he wasn't against trying to be family again, like he'd assumed, but was just too nervous to breach the topic himself.

Distance, it dawned on Shiro, was _not_ the solution, like he'd thought it was. Not for him. Not for Keith. And quite possibly, not for Akira either.

"You know what?" Shiro asked. "I _should_ talk to Keith."

"Then why are you still standing around here?" Regris asked.

Shiro snorted, turning on his heel. He paused, glancing back up at Regris. "I... thanks. Talking to you was surprisingly helpful."

"Surprisingly?" Regris asked, his tail flicking behind him.

"Surprisingly." Shiro repeated, giving the Blade a cheeky grin of his own.

* * *

"Keith!"

Ears twitching, Kethe peeked behind him. He'd heard Shiro coming even before he'd called out to him, but still tried to look at least a little surprised. "Shiro?"

"Hey." Shiro said, pausing for a second to catch his breath. "See you made it back in one piece."

Upon closer examination, he must have run- or at least, walked very quickly- from wherever he had been in hopes of finding him. Not that he had moved since he'd gone back into the Castle. Akira hadn't either, the clone curiously peering up at the black paladin, even though he tried to hide it behind a veil of hair.

"Lotor's intel checked out." Kethe said, crinkling his nose in distaste. "Surprisingly. Where were you, though? I thought Allura said you had to leave to take care of something."

"And I took care of it." Shiro told him. "Actually, I was wondering if we could talk."

"Talk?" Kethe frowned, tilting his head.

"Talk." Shiro repeated.

"Sure, I guess." Kethe said. Vague as he was being, he saw no reason _not_ to.

"Should I go?" Akira hesitantly asked. "I mean, I don't want to get in the way if it's something personal."

"Actually, this involves you too." Shiro told him.

Kethe blinked, exchanging a glance with Akira. Something that involved both of them? That could be a lot of things, but based on Shiro's general demeanor, he didn't think it was something involving say, Haggar. It still gave him the chills when he thought about how close he had been to her during the battle for Naxzela. Now that time had passed, it somehow managed to be even more traumatizing than nearly dying.

"So... what's this about?" Kethe asked, his tail flicking behind him.

"I've been thinking about joining Akira's flight training." Shiro said. "And I want you to join us too, Keith."

Opening his mouth to say something, Kethe quickly realized he didn't know what to say to that. He wasn't against it, he just hadn't expected to hear the offer from Shiro. He'd been under the impression that he'd been trying to avoid doing anything that too closely mirrored the time they had spent together before his memory loss, and from what he understood, most of what he knew in terms of being a pilot had come from Shiro. So to hear him make an offer like that...

"That is, of course," Shiro continued, "-if Akira's okay with that."

"I-" Akira began, looking like he was just as much at a loss for words as he was.

"If you want to say no," there was something almost _gentle_ about the way Shiro cut him off, "-you can. Remember, there's no one here who will pressure you into doing something you don't want to do it."

Akira nodded, one hand darting down to the admittedly frayed hem of his tunic. "I'm not against it, but... aren't you busy? With Lotor and stuff?"

"I imagine we probably will be." Shiro said. "Which is why it will only be on occasion. But I taught Keith how to fly before, so I know all of his tricks. Between my knowledge and Keith's reflexes, maybe we can do something about _your_ reflex problem. Provided Keith's okay with it, that is."

All eyes now on him, Kethe blinked. Mulling it over, he finally gave Shiro a curt nod. He still wasn't sure what had prompted the sudden offer, but part of him had sort of been wanting to find an excuse to try and hang out with Shiro more. It always felt like there was some kind of invisible wall between the two of them, keeping them from getting too close. Maybe this would help.

And maybe... maybe it would even help him and Akira too. Flying the red lion with him was what had helped them get over their initial hurdle- maybe flight lessons would actually help when it came to figuring out just where they stood with each other and just what they wanted to be to each other. And that... that didn't sound so bad, actually.

Maybe _that_ was why Shiro was offering. Maybe he'd noticed.

"Well?" Shiro asked. "How about it?"

"Sure," Kethe grinned, "-I'm in."

"Great." Shiro beamed, giving both of their shoulders a soft squeeze in succession. "I should probably help Allura and the others finish up. We can hash out the details later."

Kethe simply stood there for a few ticks, watching Shiro go, his mouth slightly ajar. Finally, he closed it, glancing down towards Akira. "What was that about?"

All Akira could do was slowly shake his head.


	26. incident side

It's an update! I think I _finally_ have a concrete idea for this installment which also means that I'll wrap it up in the next chapter, so it'll be awhile before I cover anything else! But we are firmly in season five territory now! How exciting! We're getting so close to Krolia that I can almost taste it. Still getting used to writing on my new laptop, so my rhythm's a bit thrown off, so expect slower than usual updates until I adjust.

Until next update!

* * *

 **abyss of being**

 **incident side**

* * *

"I don't think I'm very good at this."

Setting down his helmet in his lap, Akira glowered at it in frustration. It wasn't long after Shiro's declaration that he and Keith would be joining his flight lessons that all three found the occasion to go out together, something he'd been equally excited and nervous for. He wanted to get better at piloting, sure- and maybe become of more use to Voltron- but the lesson hadn't exactly gone all that well. If it hadn't been for Keith's quick reflexes, they might all be flat as a pancake on an asteroid right now.

"It's a learning curve." Shiro assured him, resting a hand on his shoulder. He tensed at the touch, prompting the black paladin to quickly remove it. "Don't worry about it."

"But I should _know_ this." Akira blurted out- and then instantly flinched. He chanced a glance over towards Keith, who caught his gaze but just shrugged.

"Yeah, but your reflexes suck." Keith pointed out. "You need to stick to what you can do, and not what you only _think_ you can do."

His words stung, but he couldn't exactly deny that he had a point. It was just so hard to remember when he was in the moment that he _didn't_ have the abilities that his memories told him he did. Maybe right after he'd been cloned, he had the same reflexes and capabilities that Keith did, but he'd spent months languishing in a prison cell- it was pretty obvious that his reflexes, and all of his other physical abilities had taken a hit as a consequence. He just wasn't in his prime.

And even then, only part of Keith's reflexes were actually natural, instinctive as they might seem. The rest had been honed through practice and experience, something he just didn't have. He knew overcoming all that would be a challenge, but he just hadn't anticipated just how _much_ of one it would be.

"It's okay." Shiro reassured him again. "You'll get the hang of it."

"It doesn't _feel_ like it." Akira grumbled.

He just wanted to be _useful_. Sure, he helped Coran out around the Castle, but it didn't feel like enough, especially given all the paladins had done for him. He wasn't just talking about rescuing him either- although that was definitely a factor. No. He was talking about how they had taken a tool, and made it okay for it to start to thinking of itself as a person. It was a hurdle he hadn't entirely cleared yet, but he was getting there. But without the steady support of the paladins, he didn't know if it would have been possible to even get that far.

He just wanted to hurry up and be able to give something back already.

To his surprise, Keith snorted. "I think I know how you feel."

Akira blinked, looking up at him. "You do?"

"Sure." Keith shrugged, crossing his arms in front of him, his tail flicking out of the way as he leaned against the control panel. "When Ulaz first rescued me, I didn't even know how to walk. Regris had to teach me. Sometimes I felt like I'd never get the hang of it."

Akira frowned, directing his gaze back down to his helmet. He couldn't help but feel responsible for that. The only reason he even existed was so that Haggar could carry out her plan to replace Keith, and even if that effort had failed, he still couldn't shake the guilt knowing that brought. His existence might not have been the _cause_ of Keith's suffering- but it was absolutely an extension of it. Even when he tried to reason it away- that he'd had no say in being created, that it wasn't a conscious decision on his part- it just didn't help.

"Why don't we call it a day?" Shiro suggested. "I think it's just about time for the Coalition briefing anyways."

Akira nodded, not daring to look up. He knew he was overthinking things, but it still felt like Keith should blame him more. They _all_ should.

"Yeah," he finally got out, "-okay. Sounds good."

"Great." Shiro said. "We'll pick things back up tomorrow if we have time."

He didn't look up, just nodded, waiting until he heard the distinct sound of Shiro's boots as he left the pod. Keith, on the other hand, lingered. Finally, sensing that Keith didn't seem intent on leaving, Akira forced himself to look at him. He didn't look mad, like he almost expected him too- just curious.

"Does it bother you?" Keith asked.

"Does what bother me?" Akira asked, hoping he didn't come across as sounding annoyed.

"When I talk about this." Keith said, gesturing at his appearance.

Taking a moment to study the red paladin, Akira frowned. He still wasn't fully comfortable with the fact that he looked more human than Keith did. It just felt like it should be the other way around- he was the clone, after all, a product of the Galra Empire. By all accounts, _he_ should be the one to look more Galra, not Keith.

But he'd also started to understand that looking Galra just didn't bother Keith. It made sense, when he let himself think about it- without his memories, it was all he would have ever known. It was probably weirder for him to think he'd ever looked so human than it was to see his own reflection in the mirror. But thinking that just made him feel guilty for having his memories in the first place, even though he'd never even _wanted_ them.

He just couldn't win.

"Sometimes." Akira admitted. "It doesn't feel right."

Keith said nothing to that, seeming to silently mull it over. As expected, it wasn't a feeling that he seemed to be able to understand.

"I could talk about it less." Keith finally said. "I mean, if that would make you feel better."

Akira blinked, his surprise at the unexpected offer instantly met by a surge of guilt. He couldn't force people to tiptoe around him just because certain subjects made him feel bad. It wasn't right.

"You don't have to-"

Keith narrowed his eyes, cutting him off. "Are you saying that because you're really okay with it, or because you think you're not worth the trouble?"

Akira snapped his mouth shut, not knowing how to respond to that. He'd pretty much hit the nail on the head.

"The latter, huh?" Keith sighed, though thankfully, not in disappointment. "Look, I know what that feels like. If I do something that makes you uncomfortable, all you have to do is ask and I'll stop. I spent way too much time making the paladins tiptoe around me not to return the favor."

"Yeah, but that's different." Akira said. "You're-"

"I'm what?" Keith interjected. "Not a clone?"

Akira only nodded in response, prompting another sigh from Keith. He ran a hand through his bangs, mindful of his claws, before he rested it on the back of his neck.

"Look." Keith began, staring more at the floor than at him, a clear sign that he was trying to sort through his thoughts still. "I get that this is a weird situation, but I don't think you're any lesser for being a clone. It doesn't make you any less of a person. You know that, right?"

Akira bit his lip, ducking his head. "So I've heard."

"But you don't believe it." Keith finished.

"It's not that." Akira shook his head, even if to an extent, he was right. It was still strange to him, to think of himself as a person with rights, as someone who actually mattered as opposed to a broken tool that had been thrown out and left to rot. He'd spent so long as the latter that trying to become the former... well, it could be a challenge at times. "It's just... nobody's treated me like a person before this. The Galra just treated me like a punching bag, and Haggar... I was just a tool to her, and a broken one at that."

"You're not, you know." Keith said. "Either of those things."

Managing a small smile, Akira peeked up at Keith. "Thanks."

"Just keep that in mind." Keith returned the smile. "Also, I should _probably_ go before Allura gets mad."

"Probably." Akira said. If her temper was anything like it was in his not-memories... then yeah, he wouldn't want to be late either.

Keith nodded, moving to leave. Right before leaving the cockpit, he paused, glancing back towards him. "This was... fun. We should do it again sometime."

Akira nodded. He didn't know if he'd call it _fun_ , but... he still wouldn't mind doing this again sometime.

"Yeah," he agreed, "-we should."

* * *

Unfortunately, there wasn't any time the following day to pick things back up, or even the day after that. But he'd kind of expected that- ever since Naxzela, it always seemed like the paladins were off on one mission or another. Even with the Blade of Marmora and the rebels to help split up the work, it never seemed like enough. He knew that the princess wanted to hit as many targets as possible before the Galra Empire realized that they were acting on inside information. They had gained a critical advantage in their last big assault, and she wanted to press it for everything it was worth- even if that meant using information from a source she still didn't fully trust.

He hadn't seen Prince Lotor for himself yet. Part of him didn't want to, and was grateful that he hadn't been put on rotation to do stuff like bring him food, or grill him for more information. He suspected it was on purpose, though no one had said as much. According to Keith, Lotor knew that Allura wasn't the red lion's true paladin, but no one could be sure exactly how _much_ he knew about them. The Galra prince had given no further hints.

If he knew about Haggar's plans for Keith... then he _really_ didn't want to meet him. Knowing about Haggar's plans meant knowing about _him_ , and he didn't want to meet someone who would just put him right back into the tool slot, not after he'd worked so hard to try and crawl out of it. He wanted to stay as a person, uncertain as he was sometimes about that new label.

He didn't think the Galra liked clones.

He tried to shake the thought off and focus, but he kind of had nothing to focus _on_. Right now, the paladins were away on another mission. They were off to destroy a factory planet, the sole purpose of which was to create the Galra Empire's new, upgraded sentries. He'd sat in on the briefing, and had lingered on the bridge afterwards, unsure of what to do with himself. It was just another reminder that he needed to hurry up and make himself useful. Everyone was working so hard, and what was he doing?

Sitting around and staring at the balls of his feet.

"You know, if you don't wish to stay, then you certainly do not have to."

Looking up, Akira met Allura's eyes. He didn't miss the way she slightly averted her eyes, dropping her gaze to his nose as opposed to meeting his eyes. It was a technique Keith had used often, so it was easy for him to recognize it in another person. She had stayed behind, leaving the task of piloting the red lion to its true paladin. Since Coran was doing some work down on Olkarion, and Regris and Matt were both away, that just left the two of them.

Well, plus Lotor. But he was pretty sure he wasn't getting out of that cell anytime soon.

"I don't exactly have anywhere else to be." Akira responded truthfully.

"I suppose that's fair enough." Allura said, seemingly turning back to her work.

They lapsed into silence, and he assumed that was the end of it. He and the princess never exactly talked much. Although she'd never done anything to make him feel unwelcome, sometimes he got the feeling that he made her uncomfortable. He didn't understand why- she'd proven to be just as outspoken as Keith's memories depicted her, so he was almost positive that if she had an issue with him, she would have said something by now.

Which meant it had to be something else.

"Still," Allura said after a few moments, "-you don't have to sit on the _floor_. I am quite certain Keith would hardly mind if you used his chair."

" _I'd_ mind." Akira said, but he still stood up.

He didn't like to stand for longer than he had to- his legs were still pretty weak, though they _were_ getting a lot stronger. Coran had been working on a training menu to help him gain back muscle mass, but like so many other things, he had a long way to go before it started to bear any fruit. That said, he still didn't feel comfortable sitting in one of the paladin's chairs, much less Keith's.

Allura glanced towards him again, heaving a slight sigh. "You can still sit if you wish to. I simply wanted to make sure you were comfortable."

Akira shifted on his feet, torn between sitting back down and remaining standing. Allura was hard for him to read- he could never tell when she was being sincere, or when she was just being polite. He was already bad at reading people, but at least none of the paladins were trained diplomats- Allura, on the other hand, was. He couldn't help but second guess nearly every action she made, which in turn made him feel strangely kind of guilty. Keith's memories were barely of any help, seeing that the last time they had been alone together was when Sendak had been attempting to steal the Castle, and that wasn't exactly the right time for being social.

Though right now... bad at reading people or not, he was pretty sure the mood between them was just plain awkward. Anyone could tell that much.

"I should probably just go." Akira said. "I mean, you're clearly busy, so-"

"You really do not have-" Allura began.

"It's fine." Akira assured her. "I should probably find something to do anyways."

Allura frowned slightly, still not quite looking him in the eye. She hadn't done so once throughout the entire conversation. "If you insist. Though you are certainly welcome to stay."

Akira just shook his head. "I'm fine. Thanks, though."

With a quick nod of his head, he made a hasty exit. Once the doors to the bridge shut behind him, he exhaled, surprised at just how tense he had been.

He really was that bad with the princess, huh.

He wasn't even sure _why_. He was bad at reading her, sure, but he was bad at reading _everybody_ , including Keith, and he was his _clone_. Maybe it was the way she avoided looking him directly in the eye, but that didn't sound quite right. It wasn't like he was all that wild about eye contact himself- he spent most of his time trying to avoid it. It was part of why he hadn't bothered to trim his bangs yet, even though they were long enough that they could be a little blinding sometimes.

Well, whatever it was, he'd just have to get over it. Just... another time, maybe.

* * *

All Allura could do was sigh.

She truly hadn't meant to make things so awkward, but it would appear she had done exactly that. She'd only just wanted to talk, but somehow she couldn't even manage so much as a single conversation without chasing Akira off.

All of the other paladins were capable of it. Why wasn't she?

Granted, the rest of the paladins hadn't grown up with the staunch belief that cloning was forbidden for good reason. It was just one of the many reasons why what Haggar- or Honerva, rather- had done was so abhorrent. She frowned slightly, mentally chastising herself- it wasn't as if there was even any _proof_ that clones lacked a soul of their own. It was just a theory, and not even one with a scientific basis. Even _if_ Akira's eyes were somewhat eerie in the way they never seemed to properly reflect light, that didn't necessarily mean anything.

He certainly didn't _act_ like a soulless husk, at any rate. If anything, he just seemed... _awkward_ , and there was certainly no crime in that.

And yet she still found herself constantly avoiding eye contact with him.

Huffing, Allura turned back to her screens, though it was only a pretense. She couldn't focus on the work in front of her, important as it was to get done. She really _had_ been trying, but when she combined how busy they were as of late with how infrequently she actually _saw_ Akira... they simply rarely had the time to talk, much less be alone together. During meals he could be so quiet that sometimes she would forget he was even there, until she noticed him out of the corner of her eye. He'd gotten a bit better as of late, steadily growing more social with the other paladins, but she'd yet to have the chance to get a good grip on his character.

That had to be the problem, she decided. She just didn't know him. And truthfully... at times she wondered if he even knew himself.

Still, she didn't think he was a bad person, not by a long shot. _Coran_ was certainly fond of him, and anyone Coran liked couldn't possibly be _that_ bad. Say what you might about his willingness to trust even the shadiest Unilu dealer, but he was otherwise often a tremendously good judge of character. It was part of what made him such a skilled advisor, both to her father, and to her.

What it really came down to was her own preconceptions, she supposed. But just like she had slowly begun to accept the idea of working with the Galra, she would simply have to accept the fact that the belief of her people had been wrong. Firm grasp on his character or not, he just didn't seem at all soulless to her- and he'd been through so much already, treated as something lesser, perhaps just as much due to that belief, as it was the fact that he was only part Galra.

At the very least, he deserved to be around people who could look him in the eye.

It wasn't as if he were Lotor's ship. Just thinking about it gave her the chills. When she'd heard the paladins describe it as being empty, she'd just assumed they meant that it felt like any other ship- in that it didn't feel like anything at all. But no- it was truly empty, as if there was something fundamentally wrong with it.

What that was, she could only begin to guess. The biggest difference between Lotor's ship and the lions were the people who made it- and the lack of Altean alchemy. She had long since suspected that was key to the lion's strength, but she supposed this proved it. The ship was powerful enough without it, that much she would admit- but Voltron had a different kind of strength, one that went beyond mere firepower.

She couldn't explain it. She just knew it was true.

Pidge suspected that she was the reason Lotor had sought them out. That he wanted to use her to help make his ships more complete. She certainly didn't doubt that, but if that was what he wanted, then he should prepare to be disappointed. It wasn't merely a question of her willingness to help- but rather, one of skill. She simply wasn't the alchemist her father was, and might never be. Yes, she had brought the Balmera back to life, but that was only due to the help and support she had received from Shay and her family. She hadn't been able to defuse Naxzela, only escape it. If she had just been able to, then Keith wouldn't have had to even _think_ about sacrificing himself.

She couldn't even fix _Keith_ , for that matter.

She had potential, yes, it was true. She realized that now. But without training, she would never be able to fully bring out that potential. With Altea and her father gone, there was no one left to teach her- aside from Haggar, but she would never even _consider_ taking lessons from that witch, not after what she had done to Keith and Shiro, not to mention the countless innocents who had lost their lives due to the komar she'd created.

Short of going to Oriande, she would never be able to become even _half_ the alchemist that her father was. Unfortunately, there was no way to locate a fairy tale.

* * *

Taking a deep breath of air, Akira let his shoulders slump.

There was something calming about being on Olkarion. Maybe it was just the fresh air. He'd spent so much of his life breathing recycled air, that there was just something refreshing about being on an actual _planet_. It had a positive, bracing effect on him, for all his apprehension about leaving the Castle by himself.

He knew he was _allowed_ to, he'd just never done it before. He'd never been able to work up the courage. But after that chat with Allura... well, the desire to get away for a little while finally won out over his nerves. So after shooting a message to Coran to make sure someone at least knew where he was going, he'd gathered up the money the Altean had given him and set himself to the task of replacing his worn out tunic.

And maybe finding some other clothes while he was at it. _Maybe_. He wasn't about to get ahead of himself.

Thankfully, there weren't exactly a lot of people at the market at this time of day. He wasn't exactly wild about crowds- the less people he had to deal with, the better. He didn't know if it was something he'd picked up from Keith, or if it was just due to having spent so much of his (admittedly short) life in near total isolation.

Probably both, he decided.

He did his best to keep a low profile and not attract attention to himself, but it quickly proved to be fruitless. People didn't exactly recognize who he was, but they _did_ recognize that he looked like the other paladins- though thankfully, they didn't seem to draw any connection between him and the Blade of Marmora's liaison, Keith's public role in the Coalition. There had been some talk about changing that after Naxzela, but nothing had come of it yet.

Fortunately, although his humanity drew attention, it was just vague curiosity at best. There weren't many of them this far out in space, though it felt weird to be counted as one when he'd spent so much of his life being viewed strictly as a Galra halfbreed. He'd never even _been_ to Earth, though thanks to Haggar, he still had memories of it. And frankly... he wasn't sure if he wanted to. Maybe nobody recognized him as Keith here, but on Earth?

There was no way he would be able to avoid that. _Especially_ since Keith didn't look like Keith anymore.

But at least that wasn't something he had to worry about for awhile. From the sound of it, no one had any intention of going home until the war was over, and that could take _months_ , if not _years_. They'd gained a lot of ground in the last big battle, but the Galra Empire was _still_ the dominant force in the universe. It would take a lot more effort to finally change that.

Plus, they still had Zarkon- and Haggar- to deal with.

He grimaced at the thought of Haggar. He still loathed thinking about the witch. He couldn't stop wondering if she knew he was with the paladins or not, and that train of thought always lead to its fair share of doubt. He'd been told that there was nothing to suggest that it was even possible, but what if Haggar had done something to him that would let her seize control of him? Or see through his eyes? She'd _created_ him- who was to say that she hadn't done something more than just implant Keith's memories into his head? What if she was just waiting for the right moment to turn him against the paladins?

He didn't want that.

The paladins had trusted him, even when he didn't trust himself. He didn't want to pay that back with treachery, even if it wasn't something he could control.

And he didn't want to become a tool again.

Taking in a deep breath, he tried to shake the thought off. He just needed to focus on what he'd come out here for, before he lost his nerve and went back empty-handed.

It didn't feel like shopping should be this _hard_ , but for awhile, all he could think about were the eyes he felt on him. He tried to ignore it, telling himself that it was nothing. The aliens here didn't even seem that interested in him, so it was probably more his imagination than anything else. It wasn't like anyone here had any reason to know about him.

(They weren't Lotor.)

Taking a few more deep breaths, he managed to calm himself down enough to focus on his shopping. Even if it wasn't a busy time, there were still a lot of stalls out, so it was surprisingly easy to let himself be distracted. With so much stuff to choose from, he was bound to find something that caught his eye. Something that felt like _him_ , as opposed to Keith- whatever that was.

He'd figure it out. Probably.

Once he actually let himself focus on the task, it was kind of fun, actually. There was way more color variety in the market than there was in the Castle's clothing stores- shades of blue, white, and yellow seemed to be the prevailing trend in Altean fashion. He'd kind of developed an affinity towards orange, which was why he'd been happy to find boots in that color in the middle of all the blue. Sure, they were partly blue too, but he liked that particular shade of aqua- it was bright and eye-catching, and so much in his life had been dull and colorless.

Or purple. He was sick of purple.

It was weird. He didn't like red or yellow as much as he thought he would, and he knew for a fact those were Keith's favorite colors- and still were, even without his memories. Maybe they were actually more separate than he'd first thought.

The thought gave him a little extra energy. Maybe coming out here by himself _had_ been a good idea. He even found what he was looking for- a tunic that could probably pass as a t-shirt, with a pattern sewn into the bottom that kind of reminded him of the ocean, that even matched the aqua color of his boots. The top, darker blue half kind of matched his Altean leggings, though not completely, but it was close enough that he didn't care. What was important was that it looked durable enough to not simply disintegrate no matter how much he fiddled with its hem.

(Sure, he could just try _fixing_ said habit, but he couldn't help but cling to it, for the simple reason that it was _his_ , and no one else's.)

In hindsight, his first mistake was not returning to the Castle as soon as he bought what he came for. He was in good mood, the earlier awkwardness with Allura all but forgotten. For once, he wasn't in a rush to get out of the public eye, and for the most part, people had stopped paying any attention to him. The shirt wasn't even that expensive, so he still had some money leftover- maybe he could buy something else. Currently the only belongings he had were the clothes on his back, the set of pajamas Coran had given him, a set of toiletries, and the little plush orange lion he had won at the Clear Day festivities. It would be nice to have a little more to his name.

He was just eying a row of jackets when someone grabbed his arm. On reflex, he fumbled for his knife, freezing up when he realized it wasn't where it was supposed to be. He only dimly remembered that he didn't actually _own_ a knife, and that even his own reflex didn't actually belong to him. Meanwhile, the alien tightened their grip on his wrist, the pain it shot through it snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Let me go!" Akira said, trying to pull away- and failing.

The alien didn't even look like much, but they were still stronger than him. They were short and somewhat squat, only coming up to his chest, and bipedal, almost humanoid in shape. The biggest difference, other than their short stature and the fact that they were a deep shade of blue-green, was the fact that they had six eyes- two big ones, and four smaller ones, all gleaming a deep, ruby red.

It felt like they weren't looking _at_ him, so much as they were looking _through_ him.

"You," they said, "-where is your _spheara_?"

"My _what_?" Akira asked, unable to understand that last part. They sounded like they were speaking Common, but whatever that last part was, it was in no language he- or Keith- knew.

That just seemed to make the alien even angrier, repeating their question as a demand this time. Actually, it might have been a demand the first time. He tried to jerk his wrist away, but the alien held tight- he swore he could feel the tips of their fingernails digging into his skin. Gritting his teeth, he clenched his free hand into a fist, but before he got the chance to throw his second ever punch, a familiar man stood between him and the alien, gently pressing a nerve on their wrist.

Almost immediately, the alien let go. Akira didn't hesitate to take his hand back, rubbing at his wrist. Already there were faint pink marks starting to show on his wrist, which he was almost positive would turn into bruises before long. It was already starting to feel sore.

"Now then, good sir," Coran began, his tone more serious than he had ever heard it, low enough to be considered almost threatening, "-If you don't terribly mind, I would like to ask you to refrain from putting another hand on my young charge."

The alien jerked back, startled. "He is with the paladins?"

"Yes." Coran said. "And I don't think they'll be too happy when they find out how uncomfortable you've been making him."

The alien opened his mouth to say something, but apparently the threat of the paladins' anger was too much. They quickly snapped it shut, storming off without another word. He watched them go with a glare of his own, annoyed that he hadn't gotten the chance to punch them. Granted, he didn't know how much good it would do, but it at least would have made him feel better.

"Now then," Coran said, his tone more normal as he turned on his heel to look back at him, "-what say we to having a look at that?"

Akira frowned, hesitating for a few seconds before letting Coran see his wrist. The Altean only touched it lightly, but it was enough to make him wince.

"Oh, that's not good." Coran frowned. "Why don't we head back to the Castle for now? I've got some ointment that might help with the sting."

Akira just nodded, his good mood from before completely gone. He was the center of attention now, and in a bad way. He tried not to look at any of them, opting to stare at his feet instead, but he had a hard time ignoring the whispers that followed them. He followed Coran in silence back to the Castle, wondering why he had even bothered to come out here in the first place. He should have known better.

He let Coran steer him into the med bay, barely even putting up a fuss. He couldn't stop thinking about what that alien had said to him, playing it back in his mind almost on loop. Whatever a _spheara_ was, he'd seemed pretty angry that he didn't have one.

"Coran?"

"Hm?" Coran asked, looking up. He was digging in a drawer, presumably looking for the ointment in question. "What is it?"

"What were they- the alien, what were they saying?" Akira asked. "They said something about a _spheara_ , but I have no idea what that is. Is it like some kind of pass or something? I thought anyone could shop in the market."

Did they know he was Galra, somehow? No, he was pretty sure they would have just come out and said that if they did. But it wasn't like anyone could tell he was a clone just by looking at him, and they'd seemed more angry about the fact that he was supposedly lacking whatever this _spheara_ thing was than they were by anything he actually had.

"Oh, it's nothing." Coran said, purposefully looking away. "I wouldn't worry about it."

Akira frowned. That just made it sound like it _was_ actually something, but he was half-tempted to leave it at that. He knew for a fact that there were some mysteries better left unsolved.

Unfortunately for him, his curiosity won out.

"I'd like to know." Akira said.

Coran sighed, putting away any pretense of searching for the ointment. "People from his planet claim to have the ability to see the color of a soul. They call it a _spheara_."

"Like an aura?" Akira asked.

"If that's what you humans call it, then yes, I suppose so. Mind you," Coran added quickly- almost _too_ quickly, "-there's never actually been any _proof_ that what they see has anything to do with souls. It's simply what they believe. They're an awfully spiritual sort."

Akira's brow crinkled. He wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. "It sounds a lot like what you're trying to say is that they thought I didn't have a soul."

"No, of course not!" Coran said, waving a hand as if to dismiss the possibility. "Now, how about that ointment? It'll make the pain go away in a right jig!"

"No thanks." Akira said curtly. "I think I'm just going to sleep it off."

He hurried out before Coran could stop him, only dimly aware he'd left his purchase behind. He wished he'd never gone. He wished he'd never asked. Coran might have tried to downplay it, but it was obvious what he'd meant. He should have just listened to his instincts for once and kept his mouth shut.

He didn't stop walking until he reached his room, not even bothering to turn on the lights, instead just collapsing face first into his bed. Rolling over, he stared up at the ceiling, replaying the alien's words over and over in his head. What did it mean, he couldn't see the color of his aura? Did he really not have a-?

He shut his eyes tight, turning over on his side and trying not to think about it. It didn't work. It was all he could think about.

That, and Lotor's stupid ship. No wonder he'd felt sympathy for it. They were two peas in a pod. Both empty imposters, and _failed_ ones at that.

Pressing his hands over his eyes, he ignored the pain in his wrist. He wanted to scream, to yell out that they'd been wrong, but he couldn't even find it in himself to dispute it. He was just a clone, after all. Just a stupid clone who had gotten carried away because a few people were nice to him for a change. Why would he ever be anything else?

He was stupid to have ever gotten his hopes up.

* * *

"-and then Hunk managed to nearly get us all buried in lava-"

"Hey! Pidge!"

Kethe barely heard Pidge and Hunk's banter, too busy glancing towards the lounge door. Usually after they came back from a mission, Akira was there to greet him, but he'd yet to show up. Normally it wouldn't have bothered him this much, but he couldn't shake the weird feeling in his gut, like something was wrong.

"Keith?" Allura caught his eye. "Is something the matter?"

"I-" Kethe frowned, before deciding to just ask. "Do you know where Akira is?"

Allura frowned, looking up towards the door as if she had only just now recognized his absence. "Last I heard, he was headed down to the market."

"By himself?" Shiro asked. "That doesn't sound like Akira."

"Hey, give the guy some more credit." Lance said, leaning back against the couch, clearly not worried at all. "He's been trying to work up the courage to go for like, weeks."

"He _did_ mention something about it the other day." Pidge frowned. "Still, we were gone for awhile. Any chance you know when he left, Allura?"

Allura mulled it over. "Perhaps about a quarter of a varga or so after you left? He stayed on the bridge for awhile, but then he left."

In normal circumstances, he would have noticed the way her gaze flicked downwards, but he barely even paid attention to it.

Shiro frowned, narrowing his eyes. "That would mean he's been gone for over an hour and a half, assuming he's not back yet. That's way too long for just a trip to the market."

"Maybe he just lost track of time?" Lance suggested with a shrug. "It happens."

"You don't think he got lost, do you?" Hunk asked.

"It's a possibility." Shiro said. "Keith, do you think you could-?"

"Check on him?" Kethe finished, already on his feet. "I'm way ahead of you."

Maybe they were overthinking things, but he just couldn't shake the feeling that something bad had happened. His instincts usually weren't wrong.

He was in such a hurry, that he nearly ran right into Coran, the Altean trying to enter just as he was trying to exit. It took him a few ticks to recover from his surprise at the near collision, but when he did, he noticed that Coran looked unexpectedly grave.

"Coran?" Allura stood up in surprise. "I didn't know you were back. Did you finish your business with Ryner?"

"Just got back, and yes." Coran informed her. "Any chance you're looking for Akira?"

"We were, actually." Pidge said. "Do you know where he is?"

"Is everything okay, Coran?" Shiro asked.

"I'm afraid not." Coran shook his head. "There was a bit of an incident in the market."

 _Incident_. That was _never_ a good word. Kethe felt a surge of panic bubble up in his chest. "Is he-?"

"Physically? Aside from a few bruises, he should be fine." Coran assured him, but his expression didn't relax any. "No. I'm afraid the damage is more emotional in nature."

That definitely didn't sound good.

"Where is he?" Kethe asked.

"He seems to have locked himself in his room." Coran replied.

That was all he needed to hear. Before Coran could say anything more, he was off, slipping past the Altean. He might not know what had happened, but he knew he needed to be there for him. The lump in his gut wouldn't let him do anything less.


End file.
